Moebius Loop
by aeroswing
Summary: "We're not saying goodbye. We're just taking the long way to see each other." Two girls running in opposite directions after the Fall of Beacon. One escaping, one searching. A fortunate twist in their paths finds them running into each other again.
1. First Lap

Chapter 1: First Lap

Ashen white snow settled on the track field of Signal Academy. On the empty crimson bleachers, a layer of frost clinging to their sheer aluminum surface. On the artificial grass, never to feel the cold flakes that wedged themselves between ever green spears. On the paved yellow path, buried by the sky's burden to bear the seasons. The powdery down drifted listlessly through the air, nary a breeze to guide its path. Nary a sound to break the surreal silence.

Blake shivered inside the black hoodie and slacks she'd been given to wear. Ears hidden within a bow flicked now and then to dust off the snow, but could still hear nothing. No jokes, no laughter. Nothing but the alternating wet crunch of four feet as they trudged onward to the starting line.

She stole a glance at her partner – she shook her head, correcting herself – at Yang. Brilliant yellow shined against the backdrop of white. A worn yellow tracksuit and a tired smile. Weary amethyst eyes noticed her own.

Blake flinched away, hugging her left arm to herself. "Sorry."

Yang exhaled her frustration, the wispy white cloud pushing against Blake's chest. "Come on." She felt the gentle grip of Yang's hand on her shoulder, tugging her until the faded six on the ground became a nine. "Ready?"

"Yang, wait." Blake spun on her heel and grabbed Yang's arm. Her right arm. Every muscle in Blake's body tensed up as Yang turned her head to face her, resisting the urge to fling herself away. Her stomach lurched, overturning the guilt that still sat there since she'd started running that night. "You _really_ brought me out here just to go jogging?" She released her grip slowly, convincing herself that her hand trembled from a brisk breeze.

Yang noticed, of course. She'd been doing a lot more of that. Her eyes never left Blake even as she reached up and arched back to stretch her back. "Yup. Helps clear my head." She leaned from side to side, a cacophony of painful pops crackling at each motion. "Figured you could use it too. You know, after yesterday."

She reached up to brush some stray locks by her temple, her hand lingering there long enough to feel the vein throb. "I guess it couldn't hurt." Downcast eyes were focused back into the depths of her mind, the gears straining and failing to come to terms with how unreal this all was. It was all she could do just to go through the motions, one hand stretching the opposite arm across her chest. "You just got back last night, though. Shouldn't you rest?"

Justified resentment flashed through Yang's eyes. "I spent an _entire week_ resting." But then they softened a bit, to a motherly glare that chided her. "And the next three getting back on my feet. Honestly, I'm more worried about you."

It was impossible to look her straight in the eye. "I'm fine, Yang." Which was more than true. Sure, her muscles still ached, but it wasn't like she hadn't deserved it. Besides, it had been the first time she'd slept in a warm bed or had a hot meal in a month. The generosity had been undeserved. "I'm fine."

Yang moved so that she could grasp Blake's shoulders, a sense of déjà vu striking her as amethyst trapped amber. "Okay. Then just bear with me for now." Her hands trailed warmth until they could clasp Blake's. Impossibly firm and gentle as she remembered them.

Blake pursed the lips of her parted mouth back shut, no meaningful words to return. She nodded and turned around, backs to each other. "So. Three laps to a mile, right?"

The padding of rubber soles on the track turned to beats in a coarse rhythm as Yang ran in place. "And a high-five at each pass. I'll smack you in the face if you forget."

Blake snorted, unable to stop the corners of her lips from turning up. "Right."

"Alright, let's go!" At Yang's impromptu signal, Blake broke into a brisk jog herself, but not without checking in the opposite direction. Yang's form grew smaller in the distance, streams of flaxen hair bouncing behind her. It was all too familiar. The hole in her gut was still too raw.

Blake clenched her jaw, teeth grinding together to hold back shameful tears. She clenched her eyes before focusing back front, picking up the pace. The scenery smudged into a haze of white, cold and numb.

All except for the single spark of gold now running across from her.

* * *

Blake collapsed, shrunk prone onto the roof she watched from, breath caught in her throat. No. No, no, no, no, no. Just wait until she passes. Her wound ached as it chafed against the icy ceramic tiles. She'd get back to Tukson's and make a plan. Vale had been a mistake. It was too close. She curled into herself, shivering and hugging her legs tightly. The many tears in her stockings stung with the cold. She had to run further, faster. To Vacuo, maybe. She could use that airship ticket she found. Anywhere else. Anywhere away from her.

She bounded across the rooftops, the freezing air whipping past her as she pushed against it. Out the corner of her eye, she could make out a sparkle of orange peeking above a curtain of navy blue. No time to lose. Run. Further. Faster. She dropped down behind the building, recognizing the maroon brick caving in the back entrance. Eyes flitting this way and that, she crept around the back alley that led to the storefront. Boarded up windows and faded golden letters.

Blake cracked open the door, nothing but the musty smell of old paper to greet her as she slipped through. She kicked aside a couple of books on her mad dash to the bathroom. Her face was hot. She twisted the faucet on and splashed sobering water onto her face. Her heart was pounding, breath still catching up with her as she raised her face to the mirror. Matted hair and dark circles under glowing, feral eyes. Like before. Worse.

With the sink full, she pressed her face into the clear surface. She had to keep up the act. Act like she didn't care. The water wicked away the tears that should be streaming down her face. That girl was better off without her. She willed away the insistent shaking in her shoulders. Maybe, with enough time, she could convince herself of that.

Jingling. Blake shot straight up, eyes wide. Wiping off the water with her sleeve, she squat down against the doorframe. First thing she'd done here was remove that bell above the door. She'd left it right on the counter next to the register. Did it fall over?

Jingling. Red eyes behind a Grimm mask still branded her mind. Clenching Gambol's hilt, she peered out into the hallway.

Amber locked with lilac. The ivory trench coat hid most of her body, but strands of yellow still spilled out from the sides, catching cracks of pale morning light. The bell sounded one more time with a flick of her left wrist, beckoning her.

Every instinct told Blake to run, every muscle coiled so tightly that it hurt. The back entrance was sealed. The only way out was through that door. Blocked by the very person she was running from. Blake stood up stiffly and walked to the counter. "Yang."

"Hey."

Blake froze. It suddenly became hard to breathe. Her legs shuddered even as she clenched her teeth and balled her hands into fists, willing them to stand their ground. How did Yang find her? "Yang. Why are you here?"

It was strange, the look Yang was giving her. Out of place. Blake had expected red fire in those eyes. Rage. Fury. Indignation for all the injustices inflicted upon her. "I should be asking _you_ that." Behind lilac there was none of that. Only a fire that burned brighter than it ever had before, but focused, fixated through lenses that burned all the way down into her core.

A deer in the headlights, she couldn't help but take a step back, turning her face away. "The White Fang _has_ to be stopped. Now more than ever."

Yang heaved a breath full of pity and strolled towards her. "So you're gonna stop them. All of them. All by yourself."

Cowardly, confused tears welled in the corners of her angry eyes. She took another step back. "I just need to stop _him_. I won't let him hurt anyone else." Out the corner of her eye, she traced the line of Yang's right shoulder, bracing herself for guilt to once more inflame the wound Adam had left. Her coat was baggy, making it hard to define her features, but it was _impossible_ to miss the fullness of the right sleeve or the tips of five fingers poking from the end. Blake couldn't hide the hitch in her breath or stop her eyes from widening. How . . .

Yang caught her mid-step, holding her squarely by the shoulders so she couldn't retreat. Her inescapable, hypnotic gaze sent all of Blake's thoughts, her planned pretenses, spiraling into chaos. "Is that why you ran away?"

Her lips fumbled for more fake excuses, only the cracked sounds of unformed words making it up her throat. Her eyes wandered again to Yang's right arm, severed, consumed in the red of Adam's semblance. Her breaths became erratic, panicked. Her eyes cowered as Yang searched them, hoping she wouldn't see the white mask imprinted inside.

"You're scared of him." Yang's left hand ghosted over the scar on Blake's stomach, sending a tremor through her body. Blake fidgeted, shamefully shying away from her touch. "What _else_ did he do to you? What did he _say_?"

It wasn't fair how easily his words came. They slithered under her skin _every_ day, echoed in the back of _every_ thought, struck with fever dreams _every_ night. "I will make it my mission to destroy everything you love." The walls of her throat closed up, suddenly dry. She swallowed the bitterness. "Starting with her."

Warmth stunned her. Yang's head nuzzled her shoulder, her arms wrapped around her back. For a few long seconds, Blake forgot to breathe. And even as her legs finally gave out, Yang didn't let go, instead embracing on penitent knees. "I knew it. I knew it, you big . . . _dummy_." Blake closed her eyes and allowed her cheek to brush Yang's. Her soul, starved by the cold, couldn't resist the welcoming heat. She cursed her own weakness. Was this the extent of her will? Hadn't she been ready to run forever, if that would keep Yang safe?

Red eyes shrieked, descending on her from the blackness behind her eyelids. Foolish courage pushed Yang away, scrambling for her footing. "I have to go."

" _You're_ not going _anywhere_." Yang stepped out into a wide stance and spread her arms as far as they would go. "Not without me."

Blake set her mouth into a firm line. "The guilty always run, Yang."

She charged at Yang, right fist raised. A look of startled surprise was the last thing she saw before she activated her Semblance. It would buy her enough time to make it through that door and find a place to hide. Hide and then run.

Jingling was the last thing she heard before the pain. A palm slammed into her shoulder, knocking her splay across an avalanche of hardbacks. She hunched over to shake off the dizziness, the bell's terse notes ringing with each sudden movement. It chose now to fall out of her scarf, the cursed chime petering out as it rolled across the floor.

"You know, I thought about tying a bell on you as a joke once." The floor squeaked under Yang's approaching footsteps. Forcing anger through her veins, Blake reached back for her weapon. "I'm beginning to think that it's actually a good idea." She rose to the ruffle of cloth cast aside and mechanical whirring. The Hunter she recognized, but not her weapon. Full gauntlets of gold extended out to her elbows, protruding past them in two long spikes: a longer gold on her right, a shorter black on the left. Gambol Shroud suddenly felt so inadequate. "Don't do this."

"Get out of my way." Blake leapt up and slashed down with both hands. Yang would take the hit. Yang would block and her counter would hit a shadow clone and she would escape.

Gambol Shroud's edge met only air. A spinning heel to the stomach sent Blake careening into the opposite wall. The books raining down drowned her in a cloud of dust that invaded her burning throat. She sputtered and coughed and glared at Yang, who sauntered towards her, radiating confidence. "Make me."

Blake staggered back onto her feet, head bowed. Deserved pain seeped through her aura. "Get out of my way, Yang." A metallic clink struck the air as she withdrew Gambol from Shroud. Long since empty of dust rounds, the pistol grip was much lighter, less lethal in her hand. " _Please._ " She gripped tighter. "Just get _away_ from me."

Shroud slashed high to catch against a waiting black stinger while Gambol slid between Yang's ankles to snag the left. She ducked down and slid behind, yanking the ribbon with all her strength. Yang would at least stumble, if not fall flat on her face.

It was Blake who staggered forward as the ribbon gave out, suddenly trapping nothing. Gambol swung back around, only to be intercepted by a tight grip at the joint of the blade. When Yang raised her other fist, she would cast off a clone. Blake swallowed. Yang would be free of her.

There was a moment of complete stillness as the short strand of yellow fluttered to and fro between them. Then came the sickening crack. Pieces of her blade clattered to the floor in time with the metallic chinks of Ember Celica deactivating. Yang's shoulder sent her flying, Gambol and Shroud abandoning her as she skidded uselessly across the floor, only coming to a stop when her back collided with the counter. The curtain of gold filling Blake's blurry eyes grew closer, until she could feel Yang grip her scarf, pulling her close. "Will you just calm down? I can help."

The tears came to her desperate defense. "He's _my_ problem, Yang."

"I _know_." Yang's left hand twisted tightly against Blake's neck, her right raised, but only half-clenched. How was there still not a hint of red in those eyes? "But what can _you_ do? If _he_ walked through that door, what could you _possibly_ do?"

For just a moment, Blake was back in that empty classroom. The same question. The same stubborn answer. "I'd stop him!" They had been too innocent then, Beacon too kind. There had always been the inevitable implication that Blake couldn't bring herself to voice, one that always stalked her from the shadows of her mind. But now, as it took the form of a masked man, looming over Yang with sword drawn, its presence choked the last words out of her. "Or die trying."

Yang's fist moved in the blink of an eye, hovering a few inches from her head. A wild gust streamed out across the ridges of her face, a tornado of tomes exploding out from around them. It hit her. This whole time. Every single motion. Yang had literally been fighting with one hand tied behind her back. No rage. No semblance. No right hand.

" _Yang_ . . ." Strangled sobs stressed her pleas. " _Please_ . . . let me go."

"No, I _won't_." Yang pulled her into another embrace, its crackling hearth consuming her. "I won't let you give it all up." One hand rubbed up and down the length of her spine while the other held her close. "You don't have to run from me."

The overwhelming warmth untangled the knot in her throat, releasing the wretched wails confined behind it. " _I'm sorry . ._ . _Yang . . . I'm so sorry._ "

"It'll be okay." Yang's whispers burned into her shoulder hotter than the tears did. "It'll be okay, Blake." A new fit of sobs broke free as familiar feelings shuddered throughout her body. That day, she'd resigned never to hear her name uttered like that again – to hear it so full of friendship and fondness and, heaven forbid, forgiveness. Yet here Yang was. It was everything she thought she never wanted. She cried.

The morning sun had fully risen by the time they stopped, bathing the room in wide shafts of yellow. One caught Blake square in the eyes as she lifted her moist face from Yang's shoulder. She crimped them shut and rubbed at them, trying to remove the spots from her vision.

Yang chuckled softly. "Guess you're _feline_ a little better?"

Pulling away, Blake heaved a sigh. "Thank you, Yang. For everything."

Yang smiled. For a little while, at least. As soon as her eyes scanned Blake up and down, her features fell. "Geez, Blake. I didn't notice because it was so dark, but . . . you look _awful_."

It took a long, silent moment to process, but even with one hand covering her mouth, Blake couldn't contain the sheer amusement that bubbled up in her chest. Giggles burst forth into full-fledged laughter, infectious enough that Yang joined the chorus, their voices intertwining in a melody of mirth as they fell back to the floor. She laughed so hard that her stomach hurt, so hard that could no longer feel the old wound. For a month's worth of the worst kind of pain, she laughed.

And she decided that Yang was right. They weren't okay. The silence now between them, once comfortable, felt awkward. It probably would be a while before they would be okay. Yang's nervous eyes flitted this way and that out the corner of Blake's eye, pretending not to not track her every movement.

But it was going to be okay.

Blake looked up from her position, laying on her back. Yang was on her side, propped up on one elbow, eyes lost in thought. "Yang?"

"Hmm? What's up?" Standing up with a strained grunt, Yang offered a hand to Blake, pulling them both back up to their feet. "Hold on a sec." She stooped down to pick up the fallen trench coat and wrapped it around Blake's shoulders. "Take this. You need it more than I do." Blake melted into the silk lining and scent of lavender. "So . . . you needed something?"

Blake breathed out a shaky laugh. "No, never mind, Yang. Let's go." She shuffled towards the door absentmindedly, probably a lot quicker and a lot quieter than Yang had been expecting. Otherwise, she might not have chosen that exact moment to stretch out both her arms and clothesline her.

* * *

Falling was nothing new to Blake. She'd been tossed around enough to know the delightful vertigo of being off-balance. Neither was getting hit. Yang's forearm pressing against her face merely registered as numb stinging in her nose and mouth followed by dull throbbing. No, what she could never get used to was the disorientation that came with being inside of her head only to be defenestrated through her very own eyes.

"Blake! Shoot, can you hear me?"

Blake could, despite the high-pitched tone in her ears. She groaned. Shaking her head helped regain her senses, one-by-one returning until she could feel Yang jostling her shoulders and the light poking under her eyelids no longer blinded her. She blinked her eyes open several times, Yang's concern eventually focusing into full clarity. "What happened?"

Yang let go of her held breath. "Oh, thank goodness." Her hand supported the small of Blake's back as she attempted to walk on wobbly, newborn legs. "You tagged me on the first one. I thought you'd be ready." Patting away the last of the styrofoam snow from Blake's hoodie, Yang tilted her head with an embarrassed half-smile. "My bad."

"You _did_ warn me." Blake kicked her legs out to the side one at a time, shaking life back into them. "I was probably still half asleep."

Yang's brow furrowed, hand supporting her chin in her best impression of a Thinker. "Might have been a good idea to have breakfast first." Blake saw the metaphorical light bulb twinkle in her eye. "Yeah. Let's do that."

"Wait, what?" Her other questions were shaken off by the jolts of her own fumbling gait. Yang had abruptly drawn her by the arms to the concrete base on which the bleachers sat. "Hold on, Yang, that won't be . . ." Necessary to curse the wrenching gurgle of her stomach for destroying her credibility.

Yang chuckled, of course. "Looks like someone's hungry. Wait here. I'll be right back." After giving Blake another reassuring slap on the arm, she ran to the edge of the bleachers and vanished behind it.

Blake found herself reaching after Yang until a frosty breeze snuck its way into her sleeve. She hugged her arms to herself. Sure, the short sprint had gotten her blood flowing, but her teeth still chattered from the cold conforming to the contours of her uncovered face. Where was Yang going to get food anyway? The school was closed for winter break. Including the cafeteria.

She huffed into cupped hands and rubbed them together. Well, whatever. Knowing Yang, she'd come up with something. Knowing Yang. Blake cracked open the book formed by her palms but stared past it. A million questions for Yang.

Sudden heat singed her cheek. She jerked back with an undignified shriek to a chortling Yang, who held a small white paper cup out toward her. Steam chimneyed out of the little hole in its plastic lid, matching its twin in Yang's right hand. "Here. Earl Gray, unsweetened."

The cup spilled warmth all over her hands as she clutched it, huddling it close to her chest. She remembered. "Thanks. That . . . really didn't take very long."

"Well, they've got vending machines _right_ _there_. Speaking of which." Yang reached into the crook of her other arm for the palm-sized parcels cradled there. She held one out to Blake. "Blueberry muffins. It's not A Simple Wok, but it'll have to do."

Blake blushed at the jab, but accepted the confection. "I was just really hungry, okay?" She peeled away the wrapper just enough to take a small nibble, suddenly very self-conscious. The little blueberries crackled nicely against her teeth and the piping hot tea washed it down with satisfying heat. "Seriously, I'm never going there again."

"Oh, come on. The old guy's not _that_ fishy." Yang flashed her a knowing grin. Blake groaned around another mouthful of muffin. The pun had almost slipped by her. Almost. Plastic crinkled wildly as Yang ripped at it with her teeth. She balanced the muffin on her cup, crushing the wrapper in her fist and tucking it into her pocket. "And think about it. You used to go there all the time. Of course he would recognize you." Her first bite chomped away half of the entire muffin. Well, at least she wasn't trying to talk with her mouth full. That was an improvement.

"Recognize me? Fine. But why would he know where I'm staying? That's just creepy."

"I dunno, Blake. I think _you're_ just not as sneaky as you think." Yang crammed the rest of her muffin into her mouth, cheeks puffing out slightly as she chewed.

Blake chuckled, taking another drag of her drink and blowing the air from her nose in a stream. "I guess so, if _you_ were able to find me."

"Ouch." Yang gave her a good-natured smack on the shoulder and made to take a swig from her drink. But she stopped half-way, grimacing and glaring almost disapprovingly at her right hand. She passed it off to her other hand and took a petite, decidedly not Yang-like sip. It was dainty, princess-like.

"I heard about Weiss." Blake gulped down lukewarm tea and looked down at her toes. "Do you think we'll see her again?"

Yang smirked, siding up next to her. "You're asking like you _don't_ know we're gonna kidnap her."

Snorting, Blake's smile came expectedly. "Just making sure. It's probably going to be hard to break in, though. You know, since I'm not as sneaky as I think I am." She jabbed Yang in the ribs with her elbow. "And you're _definitely_ not as sneaky as _I_ am."

Yang clapped a hand on Blake's back and laughed. "I'll leave the prep to you, Blake."

Prep. Right. Blake clenched her empty palm, gripped a formless construct of air in her hand. They hadn't been the extension of herself they were supposed to be. They'd only filled her with a deepening sense of futility. Might as well have been air. "Yang, you have a workshop I can use, right?"

"Sure. What for?" Blake could practically hear the pieces click in Yang's head, fitting together in a gasp of realization. "Oh, man. That's right. I'm really sorry about Gambol, Blake."

Four pieces they'd collected all together, including the hilt, which laid next to Shroud on a pile of books next to the door. Fairly even, as well. That she'd managed that with her off hand was honestly quite impressive. Especially because it didn't seem physically possible. "It's fine. I can fix him."

" _Him_?" Oops. An incredulous twinkle gave way to giddy giggling. "Wow, you are such a _dork_. Next thing you're gonna tell me Shroud is a she." Sealed lips and shifty eyes only fueled Yang's delight. " _Wow_. That . . . that is just too perfect."

" _Anyway_!" Blake shut her eyes to refocus her own, and Yang's, attention before reopening them. "Don't feel too bad. I've had some upgrades in mind for a while."

"Ooh, you should totally work the bell in there." Blake frowned. That's right. Yang had brought the bell back from Tukson's shop as well. That infernal jingling.

"I was going for stealth, Yang. How am I supposed to sneak around with a bell on me?"

"I dunno. Maybe you could use it as a distraction?" Blake's retort was derailed by a scene from Ninjas of Love 5, where Shien used the sound of wind chimes to unnerve the guards and mask her approach in the dark halls of the evil warlord's estate. It was right before the part where she whisks away the princess and takes her to the hot springs and . . .

Blake narrowed her eyes. Yang could never know. "I'll think about it." She nodded at Yang's bracelets. "Nice job on Ember Celica, by the way."

"Thanks, but I made these guys from scratch." Yang extended her left wristlet to catch the gleam of the sun. "Yellowjacket. That's their name."

Color Blake amused. Appropriate, given their shape, but still. "First Bumblebee, now Yellowjacket? What is it with you and bees anyway?"

"Dad always called me a busy little bee. And I figure we're probably gonna be busy ourselves soon enough." Yang took another swig of coffee. "So what _did_ you find on your end, anyway?"

Blake twisted her foot into the snow, digging into it with a gravelly crunch. "Nothing solid. Just that the White Fang is probably headed for Mistral."

Yang nodded sagely. "That would explain why Ruby's headed there."

Blake scrunched her nose, blinking in Yang's words. "She is?"

"Oh, right. Didn't get a chance to tell you, huh, sleepyhead?"

She put on the poutiest frown she knew. Admittedly, eighteen hours of sleep was definitely pushing it. "So Ruby's on her way to Mistral?"

Yang shrugged. "She's probably there by now. She left with Jaune, Ren, and Nora to chase a lead."

Blake bit her bottom lip. That was just like Ruby, to keep moving forward. Even into the Beowulf's den. "Have you been able to contact her?"

"Once." Yang casually leaned back against the cold concrete, arms crossed. "You know how the CCT is outside the kingdoms."

"How is she?"

Yang looked up at the sky, wistful eyes collecting and condensing her thoughts. "She's . . . still Ruby. And she's following her own path. Just like we'll follow ours." She chugged her coffee, expelling a satisfied sigh afterwards. "We'll meet up eventually. And I'll have another long story for her when we do."

Blake let the plastic lid linger against her lips, pretending to drink from her empty cup. Following her path. Meeting up. Walking in opposite directions. She sighed, letting the cup dangle in her hand. "Yang, we're not out here to jog, are we?"

With a huff, Yang kicked off the concrete and lined up a shot to the nearby trashcan. The cup arced elegantly into the goal, earning a quick fistpump. "Heh, I knew you'd catch on quick."

Blake watched Yang step back out onto the track, looking out at the wide expanse. "I had this idea a while ago, back when Ruby was still dealing with Summer passing away." She let out an exhausted breath. "She was always so scared. Whenever my dad or uncle Qrow or even I left her to go somewhere, she would be terrified that we wouldn't come back."

Yang turned back to her, wearing a shy smile. "Hey, Blake, do you know what a Moebius Loop is?"

Blake blinked at the sudden question. "Isn't that where you take a strip of paper and twist it into a loop?"

"Yup. If you don't twist it, the paths on the inside and outside never meet. I think that's what Ruby was really afraid of. That our paths would never cross again."

Blake tossed her trash and sauntered over to Yang's side. "So you showed her that they could."

Yang nodded. "Yeah. We're not saying goodbye. We're just taking the long way to see each other."

Raw emotion welled up and uplifted every organ inside Blake's body. She got it now. She got why she'd chosen Yang as a partner, why they worked so well together, why she felt so comfortable and safe and secure around her. She was the girl that ran. And Yang would always search for her. Exhaling her cowardice, Blake took Yang's right hand in both her own. "Yang."

Yang blinked rapidly, surprised. "Blake?"

Blake looked at Yang straight in the eyes. "Yang, I'm sorry I got you hurt."

Curling gentle fingers over the top of Blake's hand, Yang smiled wryly. "That wasn't your fault."

It was a smile that told her to try again. "You're right." Blake swallowed down her fears. "I'm sorry for running away from you."

A classic Yang hug. No one was ever ready for one of those. Blake grunted as the air left her lungs, finding solace in the warmth of the body pressed up against her. "I needed you, Blake. I needed you more than ever."

A thousand sorry's couldn't fill the depths of her regret. "I thought you would hate me."

"I did. For a while." Arms squeezed her tighter. "But I missed you more. You should have told me why you left."

"I had to keep you safe, Yang." Blake bowed her head, tucking it into golden locks. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Blake." She moved even closer until Blake could feel the hot breaths by her ear. "I forgive you." And it was gone. The pit at the bottom of her stomach dissipated, replaced by an updraft of relief that she had finally done something right. "Just promise me."

Blake steeled her face. "Never again."

Giggles rumbled against her chest. "I didn't even say anything, yet."

"I won't run again."

Yang pulled away, her wizened eyes full of understanding. "No, Blake. It's fine if you have to run. It's a part of who you are." She placed her right hand on Blake's shoulder. "But you can't just run off and . . . and plan on never coming back. You'll run. But promise you'll run back to us. To me."

Eyes brimming with tears, Blake completed the circle, gripping Yang's right shoulder. "I promise."

Yang's hips and hollers filled the empty silence, making the white landscape shine just a bit brighter. If she wasn't so set on being the serious one, Blake might have joined in. As it was, she just shook her head in amusement and chuckled. "Come on, Yang." She strolled back to the starting line. "We have two laps to go."

Her cocky smirk was infectious. "You're right, Blake. Almost forgot." Yang took her place behind Blake, crouching into a runner's stance. "Let's do this."

Blake breathed in and out, the crisp air coursing through her. Yang was right. It really did help clear her head. Well, the jogging not so much, though maybe now she could appreciate it for what it was: an exercise of trust. She faced front, focused on the yellow-brick road. Now, she could move forward.

Though there was one thing that still nagged at her. Blake snuck a look behind to Yang's right arm. The proverbial elephant in the room if there ever was one.

"Yang." Blake cleared her throat. Well, it was as good a time as any. "Your arm. How did you . . ." And Yang was gone. "Yang!"

As Blake herself started sprinting, she could hear Yang's fading voice yelling "spoilers" from the opposite direction. She smiled and shook her head. Yang could keep her secrets for now. She could run all she wanted. Blake would meet her halfway. Yang's laughter brought her into the present. Away from the past that chained her down, away from Adam. His vision for the White Fang, his hopes had become her burden. But now, with a flame of gold tearing towards her, she knew. Blake slapped the waiting palm as she ran past. She'd found her own liberation.


	2. Second Hurdle

Chapter 2: Second Hurdle

The Kingdom of Atlas. On your left, witness in wonder the majestic white mountains, crowned eternally in snow, surrounding and protecting with a voiceless vigilance. On your right, observe in awe the breathtaking view of the valley, lush evergreens in rank and file as they thrive in solitary defiance. And right in between, see the shallow slopes that dip down into the perfect ramp for your favorite activities, like skiing or snowboarding. Or, alternatively, you can entertain yourselves by watching the disgraced Beacon Academy dropout Yang Xiao Long fall flat on her ass. For the seventh time. Down the hill she herself dubbed baby's first snowboarding adventure.

Yang groaned, sitting up to brush the ice from her neon yellow snow jacket and black pants. The shadowy tint blinked away as she lifted her goggles up with a gloved hand, the white hare that had sat staring in her path scurrying away. Yeah, that's it little guy. Run. She snorted. Bunny slope indeed.

Roadkill averted, her ankles now demanded attention with a persistent ache. Maybe because they were being strangled by boots that fit too perfectly and weighed down by the yellow board they were strapped into. She wiggled them to try and alleviate some of the pressure. Well, this was fun. Started out fun, anyway. The actual snowboarding part was great. Falling down, not so much. With an exhausted breath, she kicked up and slammed downwards, wedging the side into the slush. If she buried it deep enough, maybe she'd be allowed to stand up again without slipping and falling please.

She pushed back with her left hand, the familiar flame of frustration settling in her stomach as it just sunk in a couple of inches. Maybe if she'd been allowed to choose another pair of boots instead of being shooed out by the shopkeep. She could still see Blake's indignance, hear her sneer. The nerve of some people. Clenching her right into a fist, she pressed it behind her. Wasn't even her fault.

A solid patch, thank goodness. Yang pushed back harder now, little by little. Until her elbow caught fire at the tense pressure, throbbing and burning. She grit her teeth. Of all the times to act up. She breathed quick, but steady to weather the hot flow of aura that pulsed painfully. Her feet fidgeted futilely as they tried to slide closer to her and help her up. Doesn't work like that when you're trapped by a snowboard, fellas. This game had different controls all together. She all but threw herself back against the snow, shaking out her right arm. It was safe to say that she was getting sick and tired of trying to figure them out.

"Yang! Are you okay?"

She lifted her head, glad to see Blake speeding towards her. Even dressed in all black, including the most adorable beanie that covered up her ears, her movements blended into the backdrop of white. She traversed the hundred feet that separated them in a blur, sliding across in seconds what would have been a mission for Yang to trudge. The crunch of skillful skidding came to a stop with Blake, who lifted up her own goggles and looked down at her. Yang met her concerned eyes with a small, sheepish smile. Dang, she was good.

For the seventh time in the space of about two hours, she thrust out her left hand with a thumbs up. "Yeah, just catching my breath." Which was true. She relaxed, laying her head back down. Fatigue drained her muscles as the adrenaline faded. Getting up was hard work.

Narrowed eyes. Yang tensed up slightly, pinpricks down the back of her neck. She could never get used to that, to the amber lenses analyzing her, reading her thoughts through the messages her body left. A big, dumb mouth full of feet without even opening it. She breathed out to discard that disgusting image, but otherwise tried to remain perfectly still. A picture was less incriminating than a video.

Blake blinked her eyes back to normal size. She didn't look disappointed, thankfully. Just slightly amused, if her smirk was any indication. "You really can't snowboard, can you?"

Ladies and gentlemen, Blake Belladonna. Master of understatement. Counter with sarcastic monotone. "Oh no. You discovered my deepest, darkest secret."

She pretended to ignore the glances that Blake snuck underneath her chuckles. Yang's smile struggled against the urge to hide her right arm behind her. "Well, if that's all."

"You appear to be doing _amazing_ , as always." Compliments were always a good way to throw Blake off-balance. She always seemed so unused to them, always shying away from them. Yang tilted her head to better catch the rapidly shifting eyes. The small blush. The slight curl of her lips. That's how you could tell she secretly enjoyed them. "Is there anything you _aren't_ good at?"

Her smirk signaled a retort. "I've been told I need to get better at sharing my problems." Blake plopped down a few feet away on Yang's left, her board plowing into the white surface to keep her there. It really was amazing how comfortable she looked. The little shifts in her shoulders. The digging of her feet. Her body just seemed to know what to do to get what she wanted. "But I'm working on it."

Obvious question was obvious. "So. Seriously, how _did_ you get so good at this?" They'd agreed to go back and forth across this little stretch, tagging each other, but Blake had to be getting sick of lapping her so many times. The one time Yang actually managed to get her, she immediately fell down and Blake had to pull her back onto her feet. Blood rushed to her face thinking about it.

"Necessity." Blake sighed, looking up to the darkening sky. "We must have hit a dozen dust trains back in the day."

"The White Fang?" Yang raised a brow. Made sense, since the SDC operated out of Atlas. But then they had to deal with the Atlasian army. "They used to be here?"

"Probably still are." Blake's glossy eyes, perusing memory, reflected the ominous clouds gathering in the distance. "The Schnee are not particularly kind to Faunus."

Yang breathed in deep and held it, her heart squeezing as she focused her eyes on the jagged mountain in the distance. If she squinted hard enough, she could make out the ornate ornament at its tip. The White Castle. Streaming dragon's breath from her nose, she stretched her arms out and began to flap them up and down slowly. Snow Angel. She had always hated that nickname. "Not all of them."

"Yeah." And then Blake suddenly turned to face her with an apprehensive frown. "Yang, I can still change the plan. If you're not up for this."

She shook her head firmly. No. She wasn't gonna be the weakest link. Her left hand loosely clenched a fistful of icy shards. She wouldn't fail Blake again. "Who says I'm not?" Flinging a powdery spray of snow, she laughed as Blake let out a small yelp and guarded her face with her arms. "Give me a few more runs. I'll show you I can do it."

Maximum frowny face. It contrasted the smiles she was showing more and more of. "It's going to take more than a few runs, Yang. You have _no_ idea how much I fell down when I was learning."

Yang smiled expectantly. "I hope you have videos." Though even falling down, Blake probably _still_ exuded nothing but elegance.

Blake folded her arms and rolled her eyes. "No, you're just going to have to learn from your _own_ mistakes." Reaching past bent knees, she unhooked herself effortlessly from her black board and held it under her arm as she stood up. "You've got the basics, but it takes a lot of getting used to."

"Seems simple enough. Just gotta let yourself go, right?" Slowly and deliberately, Yang sat back up, her core screaming as she struggled to remove her own board. She pulled up the clasp releases and yanked to no avail. There was ice clogging them. Great. She gripped harder, steadily gave more pressure with her right hand, the sweat on her brow a symptom of frustration. Not quite worse than a jar of pickles. At least she couldn't crack these straps. Though it was becoming more and more tempting. She gave one final tug but, as her hand slipped, only succeeded in jerking herself off balance and onto her back. Again.

At least Blake was there to bail her out this time. She planted her board upright into the snow before scampering over. Yang heaved a sigh. Every single time. Her deft hands undid the latches in quick, efficient swipes. "You're supposed to be in control of the board, Yang. Not the other way around."

She tucked the board under both arms in front of her. That was always her problem, wasn't it? She lacked focus. Control. All that training and she _still_ found herself coasting. Stamping her boots down, she finally stood back up. "Alright then, what are we waiting for? Let's go again."

Blake sauntered over to pluck her snowboard from the ground, watching Yang with wary eyes all the while. "Aren't you tired of falling down?"

The words held no venom. At least, that's what Yang's mind said. But at the same time, she couldn't help but hear it as a challenge, an acid that stung as it coursed inside her veins and eroded her judgment. "I told you, I'll get it."

She bit her tongue to stop any other words and breathed deep through her nose. Calm down. For goodness' sake, calm down. The sudden rage settled back onto her shoulders. Blake looked at her for a stunned second before turning her attention back to the sky. She frowned. "Looks like a storm's coming. We really should get back to town."

Yang bit her bottom lip. After all that'd happened, she actually _wanted_ to go back there? Back to those scathing eyes? The fire that rage had lit in the pit of her stomach was smothered by unease, uncertainty, insecurity. "Just one more, Blake. Please."

There were those eyes again. Scanning her outside and in. Scouring for secrets. Digging down to her real reasons. She knew. Blake closed her eyes and sighed. "Alright. One more, but that's it." She began to plod away, but gave one last concerned look over her shoulder. "I'll be waiting for you."

Yang just stood and watched for a few minutes, admiring Blake's confident stride as she trekked across the flat surface and started scaling the small hill. Board tucked securely under her arm, Yang circled around, eyeing the just-too-steep slope, and let out a weary breath. Her own steps would certainly not be so graceful.

She stepped upwards into a wide lunge, digging her toes into the snow until they felt secure. And just as she was about to kick off her other leg, a chilling gale buffeted against her from the left, blowing sunny silken streamers into her face. She spit and sputtered for a good couple of seconds, trying to keep the hair out of her mouth until she could tuck it back with her right hand.

Turning angrily in the direction of the wind, she suddenly found her face very close to the yellow board's reflective surface. Insecure lilac eyes stared back. She shut her eyes tightly, as if that would shut out the names that echoed through her skull. Names whispered behind her back. Bimbo. Floozy. Slut. All that time dolling herself up. Trying look good for people. Trying to be symmetrical. Reaching up with her right hand, she tried to find a grip in the snow bank. She winced just thinking about her elbow. She owned a lot more long sleeves now.

Heaving herself upward, Yang collected her footing as best she could. Her ankles burned. She clenched her teeth. That stupid shopkeep. Seemed like everyone either feared her or hated her these days for what happened in the tournament. Sure, she'd seen the footage. It was bad, how she'd hurt Mercury. But it definitely wasn't what she'd seen herself. She jammed her foot into the snow above her. And even if that did happen, did everyone think she was _always_ like that? That she was so one-sided? Yang groaned. No. Too soon.

Just a couple more. Keep at this pace. Yang punched into the ice with her right hand, flinching when her fist met snow that was too solid. She shook her fingers out, her wrist a fulcrum for the wild waving. Her semblance sparked to life, its familiar heat flickering in her chest, but she breathed, and breathed, and breathed, cooling it back down. Sometimes she hated it. Especially having to tell people about it in a way that was easily processed. So she was the tank. She was made to take hits for other people. Yang sighed. Getting hit was _not_ fun.

She clambered up the last small steps to the top, planting her heavy feet firmly in the hump. Hunching over, she took a second to breathe. All this was wearing her down. Everything felt sore. She could see Blake on the opposite hill, hopping up and waving. Couldn't keep her waiting forever. Yang waved back before crouching down and placing the board flat. Her grip relaxed in increments to make sure it wouldn't slide off on its own. That wouldn't do. Not right before the fun part. Fumbling hands hastily strapped her back in and she hopped over to the edge. One last signal before the plunge. She slid her goggles back over her eyes and leaned forward.

"Woooohoohoooo!" Exhilarating. Refreshing. Rejuvenating. The rest of the world ceased to matter as she let the board take her for a ride. Crouch down. Lean forward. Blake's lessons came to her in little flashes of thought that barely registered. Her muscles moved having memorized the motions. Her lead leg switched back and forth as the board swiveled, following the pattern of a falling leaf into the shallow valley. She didn't care. It was close as she could get to being back at Beacon. Back when she didn't have a care in the world.

And then she saw Blake, a black dot racing towards her in the distance. Her arm outstretched. Yang's body froze, her mind racing. That's right. She had to tag her. But could she get that close? No. No, she would crash into her. She couldn't do that. No. She had to stop. But she couldn't stop. She could make out the outline of Blake's face.

If all else fails, sit.

Yang sat. Her tailbone slammed into the snow. It hurt. The burning in her chest spread wildfire up her throat, barely stopped by choked gags. Dirty wisps of red defiled her vision, a layer of stifling sanguine smoke seeping across the darkened landscape. She lay down, breathing out of control as she fought against herself. Blood-colored tears stung her eyes. The red. The uncontainable bloodlust as she saw _him_ towering over Blake, sword through her stomach. The madness of murky red becoming an all-consuming crimson that suddenly cut to helpless black. The failure.

"Yang!" And just like before, Blake was making up for her mistake. Yang heard the shuffle of feet on the snow. She clenched her eyes shut. Blake couldn't see her like this. Not again. "Here, I got you."

No, she did not. The tugging on her left wrist just inflamed the socket of her shoulder, petite grunts accentuating Blake's effort. It probably would have been easier to drag her spent, limp body across the snow. Still, it wasn't fair to Blake to just lie there. Feeling for Blake's palm, Yang wrapped her fingers around and summoned the last of her strength to pull herself up.

It had the opposite effect. She just ended up yanking Blake down onto her stomach. Her wind left her in time with Blake's shrill shriek. Even managed to mess that one up. She pushed her goggles back up, her breathing beginning to settle as the rush finally left her body, the numb, petrified aftermath of a woodland blaze. Hiding bitter tears under her forearm, Yang gently squeezed Blake's hand. Always dragging her down.

"Blake . . ." Her voice cracked, the first fracture in a heart about to be shattered. About to become useless. " _What's wrong with me_?"

"Yang?" She could hear the confusion in Blake's voice, hear her unable to process the question. A comforting hand reached behind to support her neck. "Yang, what are you talking about?"

Her chest hurt. It threatened to burst, to spill all of her secrets into the air if that would alleviate the pressure just a little bit. Yang breathed out heavily. "Sorry, Blake. I'm . . . I'm just tired."

The baleful breeze whistled, whizzing past her ears to fill the unwanted silence. Yang shuddered, suddenly aware of the closeness, the feathery feel of Blake's hair brushing her cheeks. Of the stillness, the sedating sensation of Blake's penetrating gaze ever present on her face. "We'll come back tomorrow."

Yang let go of the breath she didn't even know she was holding. "What?"

"You said you were going to get it."

Confusion and relief swirled together in a strange mix and neutralized themselves. The fizzy froth filling her stomach revived her hunger for answers. "You're not changing the plan?"

"No." There was no hesitation in Blake's cool response. Only finality. Certainty.

Yang squeezed Blake's hand tighter. "Why?"

"Because I believe in you, Yang." Reassuring warmth blossomed in her chest, a salve that soothed the sting of flames that had scorched it moments ago. She slowly slid her arm away, cautiously peeking, wary of the red. Unwavering pools of amber greeted her, full of the sincerity that had been sown into her every word.

"Blake, I . . ." Dulled by exhaustion, Yang's mind slowly cycled through the words she could say. Words she should say. Words she wanted to say. She smiled wearily. "Thanks."

A small, sympathetic curl of her lips. "Any time." Blake gently set Yang's head back down as she moved to free her feet of the dead weight they still carried. Two strong arms scooped her up, lifting her up and holding her close. She was half tempted to wrap her arms around Blake's neck, to anchor herself further, but instead contented herself by breathing in time with each steady step.

When Blake stopped with a jolt, Yang expected to see the lift they had taken to get up to this little spot. Instead, anxiety crept back up her throat as she found herself peering out at a cliff face and the sea of trees scattered across it. "Uh, Blake, what are you doing?"

She had the same confident smirk she'd worn in Emerald Forest. "Showing you how it's done."

And without warning, Yang felt the vertigo climbing up to the ceiling of her stomach, gravity disappearing for a few thrilling seconds before crashing back into her body with the sound of boots sliding against snow.

* * *

Trees in front. Trees behind. The branches of evergreen formed a cramped canopy, constricting Yang's movement as she bobbed and weaved down the steep slope. The orange scarf wrapped around her right elbow flapped and fluttered with her hair as she twisted and turned her shoulders just so, leaned to just barely dodge a trunk that would have slammed into her face. Sweat froze to the taut muscles uncovered by her battle attire, the not-so-distant roar and the crack of timber urging her forward.

There would be a clearing soon. Balance slipping, her left hand clawed at the snow behind her to slow down, but uncovered fingers quickly pushed away. The tiny needles of ice scraped against her aura. Yang shook her head. Dirt might actually be softer.

The forest opened up into a field of pure white, a small expanse hemmed in on all sides that exposed the light of the moon. Their rendezvous. Yang wheeled around, her knee almost touching the ground as she skidded to a stop. Yellowjacket's welcome weight encircled her forearms with a raucous mechanical battle cry. Looking up, she could see a haphazard path of ruined stumps and, more importantly, the streak of brilliant white that was razing that trail down the mountain towards her.

Nervous energy electrified her nerves, her body trembling not from the cold, but from anticipation. Of all nights for the White Fang to attack. Her eyes flitted back and forth, searching for any sign of Blake. Probably still drawing them off. Yang heaved a heavy breath towards the stream of upturned snow that came to a sudden, silent stop. She raised her fists into a fighting stance. Ghostly plates of pale blue glowed with an unnatural light. Black ichor leaked out from the cracks, diluting the dense, freezing fog that billowed around them.

"Weiss!" Curtains of cold fell away in sheets to revealing the petite, white combat skirt of the friend she'd come here to save. She stood at the apparition's feet. It should have been a touching reunion. Yang clenched her fists tighter. Eyes that had once been a proud sky blue gleamed with a dangerous red. Puppet of a possession-type Grimm.

"Silence, Yang Xiao Long." Yang winced at each flanging syllable. Her snide, domineering voice had been tangled with a deeper, discordant version of itself that echoed in the mountain air. "You have no right to speak with me."

The ground trembled as the giant armor charged with booming footfalls, a zweihänder wide enough to stand on at its side. A sword that size? Not taking the chance. Yang rolled to the side, letting the blade cleave the ground where she had once been. A good opportunity to counterattack if not for the shattered cadence of a glyph falling into place. Weiss.

A white blur sailed towards her, Myrtenaster poised to pierce her chest. Metal sparked as the rapier's rushing strike grazed the black stinger. She batted away Weiss' precise thrusts, giving ground all the while. Openings aplenty, but none she could take. Leaping back, she fired two shots at the snow to gain some distance.

The knight had merely stood watch as the two went at it, its sword planted regally into the ground. Bad enough that just summoning it was draining her aura. Yang kept her eyes trained on Weiss, whose brow had furrowed, her gaze doubling in intensity. She unclenched her hands, rolling her fingers back into unsure fists. Under no circumstance could she let Weiss' aura run out.

"Seems you've changed." Weiss sauntered towards her. "You would have taken those hits before." Myrtenaster lashed out, pointing at her, accusing her. "You've forgotten your place."

Even knowing that this wasn't really Weiss, her tongue cut into Yang's heart sharp as ever. She raised her fists up defensively. "Last I checked, so have you, miss _best partner ever_."

A triple snowflake sigil. A storm of white serpents snaked through the air and crashed down, a hail of mortars exploding around Yang as she raced away to the side. None made their mark, but the sprays of icy shards sliced against her aura, her muscles flickering with new strength. Yang made a desperate dash at the giant armor. Weiss' semblance was being strained. She had to end this _now_.

The knight held its sword at the ready and cut across with a mighty swing, powerful enough to rustle the trees across the field. Yang was prepared. Her timed jump found precarious purchase, standing on the flat of the Grimm's blade. As she ran against with the world spinning around her, Yang tightened her left fist, aura materializing into a crackling yellow flame. Its head was right there. She could do this. She could win.

She would have smashed it clean off. If not for Weiss, who had descended onto the sword's guard, genuflecting gracefully. Her punch veered dangerously, flying over Weiss, away from her target, just barely dodging the upward thrust. She tumbled head over heels into a nearby tree.

A familiar stunned sensation. Numbness trickled down into her skull. This was a situation she hadn't wanted to experience again: her back propped up against the tree trunk, her legs dangling in the air. Failure after failure. She could still taste the sharp, acrid pine needles. Spitting, she rolled back onto her feet. Her semblance continued to fuel the unstable fire within, but she suddenly felt cold all over. Her arm felt cold. Exposed.

She slapped a panicked hand against her right elbow, searching frantically for the scarf that should be tied there. Her breathing quickened as she caught glimpse of the orange cloth dangling from the end of Weiss' rapier. No. Not now. She hugged her right arm to herself, tucked it closer to hide it.

"Seems we both bear the scars of our failure. Though yours is far greater." Weiss plucked the scarf from her blade and cast it away dismissively. Yang watched helplessly as the wind swooped in, whisking it away. "It is not surprising that no one wants you."

Reflexive rage seethed through clenched teeth. " _What did you say_?"

Weiss smiled victoriously. "No one wants you." She took a step closer. Yang stubbornly stood her ground.

"Not the people of Remnant." No matter how she repented for sins that she hadn't committed, the crack of a shattered femur still haunted her, making her flinch every single time. Another step.

"Not your family." No matter how hard she tried to make things right, guilt festered in the pit of her stomach. In her uselessness, she had pushed Ruby away. Yang took a step back.

"Not even your friends."

Jingling struck a surprised chord in the chorus of despair, rekindling a small spark of hope in her chest. Blake. While Weiss flailed about with her eyes, Yang probed the air with her ears. The cracks of little whips as their mistress sent them to play. Cursive letters written in the snow in front of her.

Freezerburn.

She snorted. Perfect handwriting, as always. Dust shell loaded, Yang lifted her left gauntlet high and slammed it into the ground. The fire dust spread the snow into a thin mist that blanketed the area, shrouding her presence as well as that of the Intruder, who now stood next to her. Blake lifted a single finger to her lips before grabbing Yang's left wrist and taking off, circling around the inner edge of the trees.

When they finally stopped, slumping down against a wall of evergreen, Yang couldn't keep the words in, ragged breaths interjecting between them. "Blake. Thank goodness. You're okay."

Blake nodded, her own breaths catching up to her. "I told you . . . I would make it." The self-proclaimed sneakier of the two peeked out from their makeshift cover. The smokescreen would last another minute at best. She stood up and held her right hand out to Yang. "Come on."

Before she realized what she was doing, she reached out with her own right arm. Blake's eyes widened at the marred flesh that Yang shifted to hide too late. The edge of her gold gauntlet highlighted the jagged, twisted barbed wire of red, blotched above and below with blushes of pale yellow, sickly green, and bruised blue. Yang couldn't bear to see Blake's shock. Anyone would be disgusted.

Except Blake. She found her hand in a tight grip, pulling her to her feet. Yang turned back to meet firm amber eyes. "We don't have much time, Yang. Let's do the thing."

Confusion flung all other emotions to the walls of her mind. "What?" She'd been doing that a lot lately. Catching her off-guard.

Blake folded her arms, tapping her foot impatiently. "The thing we were working on."

The thing. The thing they'd been working on. Their new formation. Its name was . . . Realization dawned on her in a fit of glorious giggles. "Ooooh. Right. The thing."

A stern scowl and slitted eyes. She _really_ didn't want to say it. "You're going to make me say it."

Yang grinned. "C'mon, you like my names. Admit it. You liked Shadow Sting, didn't you?"

Blake rolled her eyes, producing the aforementioned weapon. Shadow Sting appeared identical to Gambol Shroud. The same blocky cleaver. The same pistol grip blade. But never judge a book by its cover. It wouldn't tell you about all the days that she'd spent in the workshop. "Just raise your arm already."

"And you never told me how you keep that bell from ringing all the time." Referring, of course, to the bell she'd picked up from Tukson's Book Trade, currently attached to the end of Sting's grip, along with her signature ribbon. Yang flexed her arm in front of her.

Shadow released Sting's honed edge from her embrace in deathly silence. "Trade secret."

One of many. Blake's new design showcased both her ingenuity and her ambition. But it'd been a mistake to ask for her input in naming anything. "Say it."

Blake sighed humorlessly. "Cat's Cradle." The name was sweet nectar for her ears. Shadow crumbled to dust upon contact with Yellowjacket's golden tip, scattering black smoke into the surrounding trees. Yang relaxed. It was the perfect name. Nigh invisible threads crisscrossed under and over her arms, around her ankles, forming arrays of loose hexagons that didn't quite bind her limbs, but trapped them snugly. She couldn't even fidget without getting cut by the razor-sharp wires. And that was the point. Every errant twitch scraped away little bits of aura, restored by her body almost instantly.

With Sting at her side, Blake turned towards the moonlit field. The fog had receded. Weiss would be searching by now. "I'll distract them."

Yang nodded. She didn't like the idea of sending Blake on her own again, but she trusted her. "The princess isn't holding back. If it gets bad, run."

"I already ran back to you, Yang." Blake looked back one last time, smirking. "It's your turn to meet me halfway."

An agile leap. A bell's chime. And she was gone. The clash of steel resounded within seconds. Show-off. Yang chuckled. It really was funny. Logically, she should be taking the hits while Blake waited for the opportunity to strike. But for every formation, every maneuver that they had come up with, Yang was the finisher. Blake had always counted on her. She exhaled deeply. Every movement, every breath, every thought cleansed her. The fire inside burned pure and clean, the precise cutting flame of a welding torch.

A little faith went a long way. Carrying the burden of Mercury's injury, she'd begun to believe that she'd actually done what the recordings showed, believe that she was the monster people said she was. But Blake was there. She believed. Yang balled her left hand into a fist. Her hair didn't just glow. It shined, bright enough to escort the sun through the night.

Now she clenched the right. Bright yellow flames sheathed her arm, burning away the doubt. They displayed her scars proudly, a little red wreath at her elbow honoring her courage. It wouldn't happen again. Nothing was going to stop her. Yang pinched a loose string between her thumb and forefinger. Her muscles burst at the seams, contracted and ready to punch all the things. Her body was ready. Yang pulled the string.

And now she was ready, too.

With wavering whips that wobbled through the air, Shadow weaved herself together on her way to Yang's waiting hand. Well, Blake got to make her cool entrance. Only fair that she got hers. She strolled out confidently to the opening in the trees, a sudden dawn beaming out. Crystals of ice glistened and sparkled in her path. And when she broke into a run, the daylight followed her. Both Weiss and the Grimm were blinded by her brilliance, turning away to shield their eyes with a pained, monstrous roar. Blake was at her side instantly, their strides in sync. A shadow that always stood by and supported her.

"Blake!" Yang tossed Shadow to Blake. "Ready?"

"Go!" Blake stopped, crashing Shadow into the black stinger. "Beehive!" The cleaver disintegrated, but this time the swarm of black strands weaved together into a hexagonal net, making an angry beeline towards the giant armor with Yang inside of it.

Oh, how cute. Weiss had her glyph up and was moving to intercept. Whatever could she do? A piercing thrust aimed at Yang instead clashed against Sting. Though she had to run ahead, Yang couldn't help but look back. She couldn't miss this. The eight sections of Blake's new blade unhinged to reveal brilliant gold, whipping around and constricting Myrtenaster. The intertwined weapons went flying with the pull of the trigger, along with one heiress still foolishly holding onto them. It gave Blake time to skate round and round with her ribbon, wrapping her struggling present securely with a little bow. Couldn't have done it better.

Now for the big guy. The apparition held its sword up for a two-handed strike. Yang steadied her breaths. Her vision was so focused, so clear that her eyes hurt. Pure lilac looked up defiantly into the darkness within the armor. She had nothing to fear. On contact with the powerful swing, the barrier dispersed, tangling the blade in a network of twisted threads and pulling it aside. The armor lurched forward. This was it. Yang slid under and crouched down, coiling her entire body for this final strike. "Killer Bee."

She sprung up with her right fist, a rising dragon emerging from the earth. The armor's chest plate offered no resistance. Her entire body shot straight through it and into the air. But she wasn't done yet. Yellowjacket's gold stinger dropped straight down, cleaving it from head to toe and landing in a cool, action pose because why not? Wasn't like chrome dome was going anywhere. It dropped to its knees for a few shocked moments before dissipating in a cloud of black dust and feathery crystal shards.

"Weiss!" Right, priorities. Recalling Yellowjacket, Yang rushed back and knelt next to Blake, who cradled Weiss' unconscious body. The heiress looked a little worse for wear, but the faint black outline of an aura still surrounded her body. Yang breathed a sigh of relief.

"We did it." No. They didn't just _do_ it. They _killed_ it. Nothing went to plan and yet, here they were, Snow Angel in tow. Laughter bubbling up her throat, Yang offered her right hand and raised her chin at Blake. A firm hand slap and a fist bump for her troubles. And don't forget that pretty smile.

With a little grunt, Blake hoisted Weiss up onto her arms and began to walk down the snowy incline. "Yeah, but you might want to turn down the lights, sunshine."

Feisty. "Well, I'm sorry for being positively radiant." She threw a handful of gorgeous hair behind her for flair.

"You _will_ be sorry if the White Fang tracks us down here."

Oh. Right. She'd forgotten about the White Fang. Every party needs a pooper. Taking in a large breath, she closed her eyes and relaxed her body. She exhaled out all that extra power. And all at once, the dead weight of her once taut muscles screamed out in pain, not one spared from the soreness. But Yang just laughed, wincing all the while. Her hair still glowed vividly, her chest still warm and fuzzy inside. It'd all paid off. She was alive. They were alive.

A chilling breeze surged past and Yang could see the shiver climb up Blake's spine. Snow gear wouldn't have fit under the heavy Atlasian armor they used to break in. Yang chuckled. As she'd learned well enough, Blake was really bad with the cold. That's why she generously slung her right arm around Blake's shoulders, providing heat enough for the both of them. Personal space had always been an issue for Blake, but it seemed she was getting used to the constant contact. The hugs, the little jabs and slaps on the back they shared. Even now, she only tensed for a moment before leaning back into the lazy embrace. Yang smiled. "It's a long walk back to town."

"That's alright, Yang." Blake looked up at her contently. "It'll be alright."

* * *

Despite its proximity to the White Castle, the small lake town had been spared the chaotic clamor of battle. A quaint little place, log cabins straight out of a storybook lining a central road that circled a frozen pool of water. Yang cracked open the blinds of their own little lodge, their mostly hospitable hotel room. Dew drops from the quick shower dripped from her bangs, dampening her orange tank top and black shorts.

The just rising sun spared a glint of halcyon yellow for her, a spotlight against the serene white landscape to assure their safety. No people walking the streets. No vendors peddling their wares. No cars on the road. Just the crackling of the fire and the dull patter of running water. So peaceful. For now, anyway.

The soft, sleepy moan turned her toward its source. Yang chuckled, if only Weiss knew she was sleeping in her eternally messy bed. Yes, freeing her from demonic possession wasn't enough, Weiss had to steal her bed, too. Still, the rise and fall of her chest was reward enough for her struggles.

The electric kettle screeched with a wailing whistle. Timed to a tea. Yang facepalmed. Even she had to admit, that was bad. The switch tripped off with a little click, the spout of steam, as well as the piercing noise, dissipating into the air. In repentance, she shuffled over to the little varnished table of kitchen supplies, dropping two teabags from their box into two mugs. She poured hot water from the kettle to submerge them and inhaled the herbal scent deeply. Refreshing, but a little weak for her taste. Not quite her cup of tea. Okay, now she really had to stop. Especially now that the shower stopped.

Mission accomplished, she picked a fire iron off the wooden tool rack and sat down on the soft, fur rug in front of the red brick fireplace. Prodding the crumbling log a few times, she frowned when she saw the charred bark curl up and begin to snuff out. The bathroom door creaked open, out coming Blake, wrapped snug in soft black robes. "I made tea."

"Thanks." Blake grasped the handles of both cups and raised them up. "You forgot yours."

"Bring it here." Yang thumped the floor next to her. "I saved you a spot."

Smiling, Blake padded over to the fire, setting one mug by Yang's right hand. She slowly settled down herself, legs crossed at Yang's side. The bundle of white shifted rebelliously above them. "Still sound asleep, I see."

"You want to break out the whistle?" Snorting, Blake raised the mug to her lips and took a smooth, silent sip. Short-lived amusement gave way to somber reflection, amber eyes wavering in the flickering of the fire. Yang bit her bottom lip. Beacon was still a sore topic for both of them.

She could all but hear the crickets chirping. It wasn't a tense silence. They'd had enough of that for the first couple of weeks after their reunion. But it was still stifling. Pressuring. She had to do something. Say something. She was the yang between them, after all. Yang sat straight up. Blake scooted over, her sleek black hair shimmering as beads of water caught sparkles of light. The bow sat atop her head twitched uncomfortably. "You don't have to wear that in here, you know."

"I know." Blake brushed her fingers against the black satin ribbon, casting her gaze to the ground. "It's just been so long. I feel exposed without it."

Exposed. Yang's eyes drifted to the crook of her right arm. She'd tucked it close without even thinking about it. Yeah, that was definitely the word for it. Gripping her mug with both hands, she tipped the tea back into her mouth. The hot, diluted bitterness washed down her parched throat. She heaved a heavy breath from her shoulders. "Hey, Blake. Can I ask you something?"

"You _may_ ask."

Snarky. Good banter was usually appreciated, but right now, she was kinda going for a serious mood. She placed her right hand on Blake's left, clasping it loosely. Blake blinked, her curious brow bent, her cautious eyes turned to Yang's. "I just wanted to know. Where did you get the idea? To wear the bow, I mean."

Blake's mouth parted, her entire body tensing behind a choked breath. Her hesitant eyes flitted between Yang and someplace back inside herself, an archived volume in her library of secrets. She pursed her lips, the air of finality streaming from her nose. For a moment, Yang was afraid that the question had reopened a sensitive scar. A gentle squeeze of her palm assured her that it was okay.

"I got it from a book. The tale of a woman disguising herself as a man to defend her country." She moved their hands from her lap so that they were halfway between them and looked Yang straight in the eye, her face firm with conviction. "She had to hide _what_ she was so that others could see _who_ she was."

Yang overlaid the memory of those cute, velvety kitty ears in the place of Blake's bow. How stupid was a world that could possibly hate her for those? She grabbed the fire poker and angrily twisted into the soot and ash. "It's messed up that you have to hide it."

"At least I _can_." The pained pity in Blake's soft voice pierced through her. She could see the charade, the strong front she had set in place. The abandoned metal pole clattered against brick. Subtle. She slid the poker securely onto the base of the fireplace. And with almost exaggerated slowness, she casually gripped her right elbow, shrinking it against herself.

"I can hide the arm." Pointless words spouted out on reflex. A defense mechanism developed after so many conversations that seemed to loop around back to her.

"It's not the arm, Yang." An exasperated sigh. Amazing how someone so subdued could become so impassioned. "I've seen the way people look at you. It's the same way they looked at me." The thought of any child, of a little Blake having to live under the weight of prejudice, having to live with being called a monster, made hot bile burn the back of her throat. She curled her right hand into a loose fist, but Blake pulled those fingers flat. Her own hand climbed up Yang's arm, attempting to appraise the elbow. "You never deserved any of this."

"I told you, Blake. This wasn't your fault." It had been her own failure. She peeled away the invading hand and let it drift back to its owner.

"It is, though. If I hadn't run to Beacon, if I hadn't chosen you as my partner . . ." Blake's eyes immediately widened. A hand boarded up her mouth, a belated barrier that failed to stop the words from being broadcast.

"Wait, what?" Her brain struggled to process the words as a coherent whole. Probably because she was still having a hard time believing them. "You . . . chose me?"

Her hand slunk away slowly, sweeping wet hair away from sheepish eyes. "Yeah."

"Huh." Yang nodded idly. Never really thought about it until now. She hadn't even seen Blake until after the fact. If she could sneak around like that, she could have picked anyone. Yang blinked. And that begged the question. "Why me?"

Raising her mug again, Blake took a long, soundless drag and peered into her reflection on the amber liquid's surface. "Remember the day we first met?"

Oh geez, that felt like forever ago. "The day before initiation, right?" Yang bit her tongue. Yeah, she remembered alright. "I remember making a pretty bad first impression." Pretty bad? Come on, be real here. Lost cause, ring a bell?

"You didn't know anything about me. And I thought if I pushed you away, you would leave me alone, like everyone else. But you didn't." She pressed a comforting hand against Yang's shoulder. "You just pushed right back."

She couldn't escape from the sparkle of shimmering amber pools, enticed by the depths of Blake's insight. "I couldn't understand how you could be so confident. You didn't care what I thought. Or what anyone thought. You could just be yourself. I admired that." Blake smiled softly. "And I still do."

And the walls came crumbling down. It took everything she had to keep from bursting into tears on the spot. Blake was right. Of course she was right. Ever since they got here, she'd been nothing but an angry mess. Letting them get under her skin. Yang Xiao Long, the girl so comfortable in her skin that she flaunted it. "Sorry, Blake. You're right." She sniffed away salty tears and breathed out a shaky laugh. "It's just been hard, you know? Seems like everyone's still holding a grudge."

"They don't know the truth." She calmly raised the mug to her lips and began drinking again.

Yang smiled at the remarkable faith. "Yeah. I guess it's just been wearing me down."

When the last of the tea was gone, Blake set the cup down by the fireplace and smiled a relived, satisfied smile back at her. The cat had gotten the cream. "Took long enough to get that out of you. No wonder you haven't been yourself."

And the master of understatement strikes again. Yang chortled. "Well, hey, congratulations. Now you really _do_ know my biggest secret."

"One might say the cat's out of the bag."

Yang's heart soared. Her awestruck gape slowly expanded into a wide smile. Blake's grin taunted her. Yeah, yeah, she just did that. What was she gonna do about it? Hug the living daylights out of her, that's what she was gonna do. They crashed to the floor, a pile of giggles.

She rested her head on Blake's shoulder. "Sorry for being such a downer. You've been picking up after me a lot lately."

"It's fine. I'm not going anywhere." And Yang wholeheartedly believed her. The friendship, the trust that had formed when Blake found her in Emerald Forest, when they fought in tandem in the streets of Vale, when they defended the Breach back-to-back against waves of Grimm, trust that had been shattered had finally been mended, reforged into something new altogether. Yang pressed deeper into onyx tresses.

"I'll hold you to that then . . . partner." She held her breath. It had felt so right to say, to hear. It felt instinctive, natural. But the squeezing in her chest demanded affirmation.

A steady hand patted the small of her back. "Combat Scarves for life." And now Yang could relax. She could let her guard down. Because when she was with Blake, she could just be herself.

Yang pulled away, giving her partner one last grateful look before sitting back. "Guess I'm gonna need a new scarf then." She grimaced, looking down at her arm. Somehow, it didn't look as bad as it had before. Still. "And probably something for the arm."

"Here, I have an idea." Blake reached for her bed, for the dangling length of ribbon she usually kept tied around her arm. Now there was an idea.

"Blake, are you sure?"

She shrugged. "I have plenty. Is this okay with you?"

"Um, yeah. Sure." Her mind was more preoccupied with how Blake had a nigh inexhaustible supply of nigh indestructible ribbon. Where did she get it? Who even made it? Yang shuddered as the supple silken fabric began to coil around the scars, cleverly concealing them. Probably Luna and Shawcross. They did a good job with her arm.

Blake crissed and crossed the ribbon with expert finesse, running a finger underneath the weave every so often to make sure it wasn't too tight. She even finished it off with a neat little flower loop bow that hung off her tricep. "How does that feel?"

"Great, actually." She flexed her elbow up and down. Not too tight to move. Not so loose it would fall off. A perfect fit. "Alright now, come here, you. You're not getting off _that_ easy." Their laughter vibrated against each other as Yang pulled Blake into another hug. It comforted her, to feel her pressed so close. To not only know, but feel that her partner was there. "Thanks, Blake. Hopefully I'll be easier on the eyes now."

"Please, Yang. You've always been lovely." If Blake's earlier confession had been earth-shattering, this one parted the seas. She felt Blake gasp into her shoulder, the body in her arms tensing up. She could feel the tingling heat of a blush as she pressed their ears together. Yang pulled back to give the requisite raised brow and teasing grin to her partner, who looked ready to bolt at any second.

"What was that, Blake?" As the statement finally began to settle in her mind, her own heart started beating like crazy. She'd always thought Blake was charming, and definitely a looker. She liked spending time with her. She liked talking with her. She could think of a million other good things to say about her. But they were friends. That kinda thing was natural, right? Right, Blake? Say something girl. You're making this awkward. "Blake?" Oh boy, was it getting hot in here?

"I . . . I need go dry my hair." Her words stumbled along with her feet in her hasty dash to the bathroom. The high-pitched whir of the dryer sounded a bit too hurriedly.

"Blake!" Yang outstretched hand turned back to slide down her face. Whatever. She'd be back soon enough. She turned her attention back to the dying fire, the charred and blackened log on its last legs. Little misshapen sparks popped up from underneath the dying embers, glowing a steady orange. Curious, Yang took the poker and flipped the log over. The smothered fire burst up with a new flame.

Her legs kicked up and down impulsively as the fire tickled her open hands with a mercurial heat. Hard to be anything but happy when she felt so warm all over. They got Weiss back. She had her partner back. She had herself back. She was Yang Xiao Long. She didn't care what scathing eyes asked of her. Yang stretched her right hand out to the yellow flame. Her confidence, her unseen beauty would be greater than any would be judgment.


	3. Final Stretch

Chapter 3: Final Stretch

Waves of mist, a light sprinkling of rain, cast a soft blanket over the lonely, abandoned landscape of Beacon Cliff. Trails twisted and turned into each other, meeting and diverging, a cliff above a chasm, a maze of green that opened up to structures of stone. Ruined walkways weaved across the canyon, paths built to guide their ancient ancestors across, to the Beacon. But with the lighthouse's flame snuffed out, they sunk ever deeper into the creeping fog below. Cracked pillars broke the cloudy surface, reaching up desperately for someone to come save them.

It would be just a few more days. Air streamed across her face as Blake sprung from column to platform, her eyes catching familiar sights flying past. Faded black where a missed dust round had made its mark long ago, jagged edges of a bridge broken by a creature of Grimm crashing into it. Her uncovered Faunus ears twitched attentively, used now to the pressure of the deafening speed. Most of the Grimm had moved onto the academy proper, but it still paid to be cautious.

Speaking of which, a glimpse of gold flashed onto a distant colonnade, disappearing just as quickly. A remote, circular dais rested halfway between them. There. She reared back and launched herself, pushing every ounce of strength into her legs, testing her limits. The world streamed by in hues of green and grey. Gravity crashed back down on her as her heels clacked securely onto the slick surface. She kicked off and bounded into another run.

Brilliant yellow fluttered past, beautiful tresses that trailed a beautiful person. Yang was getting faster. She skidded wetly to a stop and turned, facing her partner a few feet away. Lilac eyes were surveying the rock upon which they stood. Yang bobbed her head, satisfied. "This'll do."

About a hundred feet across, by Blake's own estimation. Room enough to test both their movement and their reflexes. She stepped back into a relaxed fighting stance, wincing at the bruise on her shoulder. "Alright. Just don't punch me again."

Yang chuckled. "Sorry. That was reflex. And besides, _you_ were the one staring at my gauntlets." A wink accentuated her little tease. Blake huffed, fighting back the flush of her cheeks. It hadn't been her gauntlets, euphemism or otherwise, she'd been fixated with.

No, ever since her partner got that tattoo around her elbow, she found her eyes drawn to it. Even now, as Yang raised her hands up to protect her face, she couldn't help but glance at the ring of flame emblazoned in ink, a neat black bow tied snugly above it. "My eyes are up here, Blake."

Setting her jaw, she snapped her head up, back to Yang's giggling gaze. It had become easier and easier to get lost in looking at her partner. "Remember, kicks only."

"I'm already getting _my_ kicks." The twinkle in Yang's eye never meant anything good. "Especially after seeing how _you_ use those legs." Blake's face flooded with heat. She watched Yang rock back and forth on the balls of her feet. Her rich golden hair bounced in time with each movement. Her hips swayed suggestively, a siren's song for her eyes. And don't even talk about her . . . "gauntlets". Hot air steamed from her pursed lips. There was no denying it. She'd always thought Yang was quite lovely.

And everything that she herself wasn't. Blake outlined the edge of a velvety ear between her fingers pensively. She was a stray, an outcast. She was melancholy, despondent, quiet and brooding. She ran away at the first sign of danger. She even ran away from Yang's crystal clear advances. Just what did Yang see in her?

"Better without the bow, isn't it?" Yang had been watching her, a delighted smile on her face. "Makes our little bet worth it."

Admittedly, yes. The cool air on only one set of ears had always felt oddly dysfunctional. And though she still felt quite exposed, she couldn't deny it. She felt truly free. "I didn't think you'd actually do it. You almost called it off." After hearing the blood-curdling screams of the burly man before her. They agreed never to talk about how loud Yang cried.

"I'm glad I didn't." Eyelashes fluttered on heavy-lidded lilac eyes. "Your ears are absolutely adorable."

Before she could lose herself, Blake shook her head, dropping back into her stance. Enough of this nonsense. "Shut up and fight me already, Yang."

Yang rolled her fingers into fists. "Feisty."

Blake shivered. A smooth spray of shallow rain raised goose bumps down her arms. Water clung to her skin, tiny droplets laden with doubt. She wasn't dense. Yang wouldn't come on to her _this_ hard if she wasn't genuinely interested. But it didn't make sense. She matched Yang as they paced across each other in a wide circle, eyes locked, sizing each other up, waiting for one of them to make the first move. It was infuriating.

Yang charged in, closing the gap so fast that even her Faunus sight could barely keep up. A high roundhouse kick tore through the air towards her chest. A kick had roughly four times the power of any equivalent punch. Four times a haymaker from Yang. She should dodge. She shouldn't challenge it.

Her own kick was the phantom of an attack. Their shins tapped together briefly, whipping her back into a forward flip. If she was fast enough, she could swing around and catch Yang's knee in the crux of her own. She wasn't. The kick had been reckless, but calculated. Her partner had already bolted in the opposite direction.

One of many lessons: knowing when to disengage. She dashed away as well, focusing every fiber of her being on the flight of her feet. Within seconds, the tongues of cold steam crawling up the platform's edge licked at her heels as she pivoted back around for another pass. They weren't even close to matching a seasoned huntress in combat speed, but they were getting faster. It would take all this and more to retake Beacon.

They appeared in the center of the makeshift arena simultaneously. This time, Blake pressed the attack. Sort of. A flurry of light kicks feinted her attempts to step in and around Yang's legs, to trip her up and get her on the ground. But Yang wasn't taking the bait. She skillfully navigated her way out of each and every trap, spun just out of range of every sweep. Yang was waiting, patiently weathering the storm for that single opportunity to shine. It wasn't how she used to fight, but it was no less Yang. Confident dodges almost goaded Blake into taking risky shortcuts. It was infuriating.

The laces of a brown boot two inches from her face stopped her in her tracks. She blinked. When did that get there? Yang let her leg fall slowly back to the ground, both her body and her expression easing out of combat. "Blake, you okay? You spaced out for a bit there."

Blake blew out a deep, exasperated breath. That's what she got for being distracted. "Yeah, sorry. Just got caught up in it, I guess. That was some impressive footwork."

"So was yours." Yang grinned. "You always manage to keep me on my toes."

Blake scoffed. Two could play at this game. "Please. You always seem to be one step ahead of me."

Twin finger pistols fired in succession, courtesy of her beaming partner. "Eeeeeeeyyyyyyyy. Now you're thinking on your feet. Way to get a leg up on me."

And there was the groan. Fine. Fine, she could have it. "Speaking of legs." Her heels dug into the worn rock beneath them. "You're . . . really okay with this, right?"

"This about that dirtbag Mercury again?" Yang rolled her eyes, waving the very idea away with her hand dismissively. "Psh. I told you. I'm over it." And it showed. Pride bloomed in Blake's chest. Yang walked around town like she owned it again. Sure, she got some hateful stares, but so did every member of their merry little band. An ex-terrorist Faunus, an exiled heiress, a weapons maniac with a propensity for wanton destruction.

And of course, the blonde brawler herself. Blake smiled, shaking her head. "Yeah. You just get right back up, don't you?"

"I had help." The amusement disappeared from Yang's eyes, replaced by a forlorn stare out into the expanse of white and grey. She grimaced. "I had a lot of help."

A deep, throaty caw pierced the air above them. It made Blake jump slightly, especially with how loud it sounded through her second set of ears. She relaxed only after she saw what it was. "Just a crow." A common crow, gliding across the canyon to the trees. She paid it little mind.

But Yang was another story. She watched the black bird fly away with a sneer, a bitter look on her face. "No . . . it's a raven."

Blake raised a brow, both curious and concerned. Her left fist was clenched so hard that it was shaking. "You can tell?"

"By the call." Yang closed her eyes. A heavy breath pulled the tension from her muscles. And when she opened them again, once bright irises appeared darker, wavering, conflicted. "My . . ." She shook her head. "Raven. Raven taught me how to tell."

Raven. Blake winced. She'd only heard that name in passing. "I thought she left after you were born."

"She did. I just . . ." Yang sniffed and cleared her throat, left hand reaching up to catch the tears under her puffy eyes. Blake immediately sided next to her, placing one hand on the small of her back. She really wasn't very good at this comforting thing, but she'd try. "Sorry."

"You don't have to talk about it." Blake rubbed up and down, feeling the small convulsions tear through her.

"No, you deserve to know." Yang stepped away to face her head on. Her eyes still shimmered with tears, but she'd set them firm, determined. "I saw her."

Blake was astonished. After all those years of searching, she actually did it. But . . . "You don't sound too happy about it."

"It wasn't a very happy time." Lilac sank downwards shamefully. "It was right after you left."

Oh. Her heart tried to claw its way up her throat. That would explain it. That would explain a lot of things. "I'm sorry."

"That's not on you anymore." Yang sighed. "Raven, she . . ." She wheeled around with a loud, frustrated groan, facing up at the gloomy, grey sky. "I mean, don't get me wrong. I'm grateful to her. She helped me. She whipped me back into shape." She roughly overturned an imaginary table. "But then she just left!" Anger gave way to cracked sobs. "She just left, Blake."

Retaking her place at her partner's side, Blake reached behind her back to pull her closer. She felt for Yang. She really did. That's probably why the empathy strangled her heart so painfully. She couldn't help but relate, to understand what her mother might be doing. "Sometimes people run away to protect the people they care about."

"For seventeen years?" The bitterness wasn't directed at her, but it hurt nonetheless. She deserved better than to be abandoned all the time.

"I'm not much better." And the more she thought about it, the more the whirlpool of doubt sucked her in. History had such a cruel way of repeating itself. Yang might trust her now. Yang might care for her. Yang might even hold a flame for her. But she was the girl who ran away. Blake swallowed, holding back pained tears. Yang deserved better.

"You are."

The arm that snaked around her neck surprised her. She tensed in response to the closeness. "In what way?"

"You stayed." The two words exploded in her mind, imprinting themselves in echoes that resounded all the way to her heart. "You stayed, Blake." She could tell by the tight, shaking grip that Yang had in her black scarf. It meant the world to her.

Blake fidgeted defiantly. "I might run away again."

"I know." Yang broke away, leaving the small smile there for her. "But you'll come back. You promised." Fresh mist settled on her face, an oddly fond reminder of all the times that Yang had used a spray bottle to wake her up in the morning. A burst of cold that gave way to panicked shrieks and a steady heat as her indignant face lit up. A similar warmth clung to her face now, but not born of embarrassment.

A sudden flash of heat and light signaled the return of the sun. It poked tenaciously through dreary grey. And while it couldn't part the veil of gloom, pillars of yellow plowed through, rays of light that passed through the myriad of prisms scattered about the sky. They formed a brilliant pathway, an iridescent avenue that guided Blake's colorless heart back towards hope. A rainbow.

Such beauty, even against the bleakest of backgrounds. Blake's brow furrowed in thought. No, that wasn't quite right. The sorrowful sky actually highlighted the existence of the ethereal arch. Tenuous, almost transparent, it would have been all but impossible to see against clear blue. Just as light was meaningless without darkness, they needed each other.

"Get a load of that . . ." Yang took in the sight with child-like wonder, her mouth parted in an awestruck smile. She leaned closer, so close that Blake could see another rainbow, this one born in twinkling, unshed tears. It brought tears to her own eyes. They didn't hurt, no sobs or sniffles to hold them back. They ran down her face in time with the memories, each one loosening the vice in her chest. She remembered the anguish of running away, the fear of Yang's resentment. She remembered her relief in Yang's forgiveness, the unbridled happiness in her unconditional acceptance. The joy would have been meaningless without the pain.

Blake brushed the ear that had flattened against her head in shame. That's right. Yang accepted her. All of her. Yang took in the stray. And like a cat seeking the warmth of the sun, Blake would come back to her. Through the thick and the thin. Through sun and storm. Whether Yang wanted her back or not. She would come back.

Because she loved her.

The breath hitched in her throat, almost choking her. She coughed violently. Yang moved to thump her back, but Blake raised her palm, indicating that she was okay. She just needed a minute. Or several.

"Blake? Blake, wait, come here." Before she could protest further, Yang clutched her shoulder and pressed a warm palm up against her forehead. "Oh geez, you're burning up." Yang's face was so close. Soft breaths caressed her cheek.

She hastily untangled herself from Yang's embrace. "I'm okay, Yang. Really." Okay wasn't even the half of it. She'd spent so much time trying to figure out why Yang liked her. She never even considered her own feelings. Now, she couldn't so much as look at Yang without a fleet of butterflies fluttering through her stomach.

"Whatever you say, partner." Yang stretched her arms above her. "Oh, man. Felt good to get that off my chest. Now." She stepped back a few paces, fists raised. "Let's get back to work. We're gonna have to bring our 'A' game for Ruby's plan to work."

Blake smirked. "Alright, Yang. But I'm not holding back anymore."

Yang smirked back. "Bring it on."

And Blake did just that. She appeared in front of Yang before she had the chance to even move. Predictably, her partner backpedaled. Not this time. Blake shrugged off a shadow clone and spun around behind her. Fair was fair. She'd been getting tired of trying to work around Yang's semblance anyway. Yang tried stepping to the right. Another clone. The left. Another. Her partner's feet were tangled in a maze of stocking-clad legs. It was a miracle she could still keep her balance, but it was only a matter of time. No way she could get out of this one.

"Peek-a-boo." Yang dipped back, suddenly upside-down and face-to-face with her. The real one. Her face flushed red. Her concentration disappeared into thin air along with her clones. She stumbled back, only to be scooped up off her feet.

Blake was speechless. No way. _No way_ she could have seen through that. " _How_?"

"Easy." Her nose dipped down, nuzzling the matted hair between her Faunus ears. "You've been using my shampoo."

All but throwing herself out of Yang's arms, Blake stalked away, ears on fire. There were no words. She just _had_ to notice. Just once. Just once she'd wanted to try it. The scent of lavender had become a comfort to her these days. "I think we're done for today, Yang." She crouched down, getting ready to jump. It was a straight shot back into the forest.

"Blake, wait up!" She didn't wait. Soaring through the air, her feet made soft contact with grass and soil before springing back up onto the sturdy bough of a tall tree. The rustling of leaves and the splash of yellow against green told her that Yang was keeping up. She still wasn't sure why Yang liked her so much. But that didn't matter. Blake allowed herself to smile. She loved Yang. And if Yang was willing to chase after her, she deserved to know that. She leapt to the next branch. Catching it in her hands, she let herself swing back and forth. Tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow.

* * *

A light shower pittered and pattered against the stone rotunda of the Abandoned Temple. It slicked the granite surfaces of flat-topped pillars, where gold and black chess pieces had once been placed, pooling into the cracks of the hand-carved runes beneath them. Thick foliage shielded Yang from the rain as she dangled from the thick branch by her arms. Third one on the left. A cute little pony. The lithe form hanging next to her grunted in exertion. An even cuter partner.

She shot up and propped herself on the makeshift wooden bar. "Hey, Blake."

Her partner shook and strained as her arms struggled to get the rest of her body back up. Inch-by-inch, with a long, stifled growl rumbling in her throat, she managed to match Yang. Huffing and puffing, sweat and raindrops dripping from her bangs, she looked glad for the moment of reprieve. "Yes?"

Yang dropped back down, her body completely slack. She got another glimpse of those ancient ruins, triggering more fond memories of their second day at Beacon, of how a simple fetch quest had developed into something much more exciting.

"You think everyone's initiation was as crazy as ours?" Even for a thrill seeker like Yang, she had to admit it was an extremely roundabout way just to choose their teams. Not that she hadn't enjoyed it immensely.

Bemused amber eyes joined her below. "Yes, Yang. I think everyone in all of Beacon's history got to punch a Nevermore in the mouth."

Touché. "Looks like you missed out then." Her right arm fell to her side, her body suspended completely by her left hand. The differing strength was a bit of a bother, but nothing she couldn't fix with a little hard work. And showboating to Blake was the cherry on top. Ol' lefty hefted her all the way up. She exhaled. Not entirely effortless.

Blake snorted, content to watch the display. She'd given up trying to match her rep for rep three sets ago. Not that it hadn't been cute that she tried. "I'll live."

Kicking her legs up, she fell to her partner's side and swung back and forth. "Maybe I'll ask Velvet or Coco." Faces flashed through her mind, of the huntsmen and huntresses that had gathered in Forever Fall. And not just from Beacon either. Hope flickered to life in her heart. "Couldn't have been _that_ different a couple of years ago, right?"

Blake smirked. "Ask Professor Port."

"NO." While she definitely respected him as a huntsman, his overblown stories of the glory days could even put the studious Weiss to sleep. Weiss, the girl who subsisted purely on leaves and caffeine. Come to think of it, maybe that's why she was so short. Anyway. "I swear, Blake, if you say a word . . ." She left her threat empty, as it actually was.

"Perish the thought." Blake narrowed her eyes at her nemesis, the branch above, and groaned, but moved to drag her body upwards once more.

She couldn't be prouder. "Just one more, Blake. Then we'll take a break."

The incentive sparked an instant reaction. With a final burst of strength, Blake scrambled her upper body over and immediately collapsed, her shoulders and arms leaning over the sturdy bough for support. She panted, breathless. "How do you do this _every_ day?"

Yang hauled herself up again, locking her left tricep out fully. "It gets easier." She smiled appreciatively at her partner. "Thanks again for coming out with me, by the way. It's a nice change of pace."

Blake sighed. "Feels like I'm just slowing you down."

Switching arms, Yang reached over to ruffle Blake's hair. Her mouth turned to a pouty frown, but she didn't shy away. Probably too tired. "You're doing great." That was unadulterated truth. Her strength training regime was rigorous, to say the least, and that Blake was even keeping up was, well . . . "Amazing, actually. You're stronger than you look."

Now she was full on grumpy kitty. "Gee, thanks." Her cat ears flicked every now and then, flinging away the beads of water that collected on them. Yang nearly squealed. She couldn't get enough of that. "If you wanted a workout partner, you should have asked Yatsuhashi."

Well, duh. That guy could bench press a Goliath. "Eh, I dunno. I like hanging out with you." Blake glared at her knowingly. Yang smiled back. Puns were great and all, but . . . Blake and Yang sitting in a tree. Truly, a missed opportunity. She liked flirting with Blake. Seeing her all flustered and shy made her all giddy. Then again, so did making her smile. Or laugh. Or, okay, bottom line, she just really liked seeing Blake happy. But maybe she was moving too fast. She reached down and gave Blake's right hand a gentle squeeze. Last thing she wanted to do was scare her away, especially after that bit of bad news last night.

"Think Ruby's gonna change the plan?"

Blake shifted, tucking her chin into her chest. "Nothing's set in stone. Especially if the White Fang is involved."

Nothing was ever simple. Yang blew out a hot breath. "We'll be ready for them." For him, she'd been about to say. Adam. She never talked about him much, which was completely understandable. Sicko probably ate puppies for breakfast.

Her partner visibly stiffened, fingers dancing nervously out of her hand. "I hope so."

Exhaling deeply, Yang gripped the branch again. Her right hand clenched, stopping only when she heard the bark crunch in her fingers. This time would be different. She took the plunge. "With all the training we've been doing? We won't even need my Semblance."

That had been her own biggest weakness: thinking that her Semblance made her invincible. But Semblance alone did not a Huntress make. Sheer speed, pure strength, and wisdom enough to adapt her weapon and Semblance to suit any situation. She wouldn't make the same mistake twice. Yang slowly reeled herself back in, meeting Blake's restless gaze. "Don't underestimate him, Yang."

Yang frowned. Fear had been instilled in Blake. Fear of her former partner. "Yeah, know your enemy and all that jazz. So what _is_ his semblance, anyway?" All she remembered was the dangerous flash of crimson that cut across her sight, visible even with the red of her eyes.

"It's . . ." Blake bit her bottom lip. It was something she didn't want to say. "It's pretty close to yours."

That was not at all what she'd been expecting to hear. "What do you mean?"

"You take damage and it just makes you stronger." Blake's eyes flitted towards the ground below. "He _collects_ damage. And he gives it back all at once."

Yang plummeted. She wanted to be funny right here. She wanted to laugh it off and say that it was basically a worse version of hers. But, first of all, it wasn't. In terms of single hit potential, it was probably a lot better. Second, it was too eerily similar. Fighting him would be like fighting herself. A colder, more ruthless, more experienced version of herself. "So, what's the plan?"

Nervous silence shut out the sound of a spring shower. As Yang finished her rep, fatigue crept up the small of her back, accentuating her unease. The question wasn't meant to be so heavy, but it definitely weighed down on Blake. She looked so small, her shoulders hunched into herself. Her eyes did shuttle runs between them, her mouth parting and closing in intervals, one-by-one considering the scenarios and discarding them in turn. None of them ended well.

"Blake." Yang clasped a tense, trembling shoulder and shook gently. "Don't worry about it. We'll take that monster down." They'd come up with something. They always did. She slid her hand down into a fist, for bumping purposes. But apparently Blake didn't get the memo, instead blanketing it with her palm. She wore a dejected expression, complete with a torn sigh.

"He wasn't always a monster."

No. Of course not. Yang grimaced. A furious flame sparked dangerously in her chest. Not because of what Blake said. Not because she was defending the man who made it his personal agenda to destroy her happiness. It was _how_ she said it.

So damn . . . fondly.

She pulled her hand away, clutching the tree for support. "Sorry. Guess I'm still holding a grudge."

Blake couldn't even look her in the eye. "You have every right to." _You_? Seriously? Not _we_? Just what did she owe this guy? Yang streamed out a frustrated breath. He was poison for her. She had to know that. She had to know what was coming next.

"Blake, if it comes down to us or him . . ." Despite it all, Yang stopped to carefully consider her next words. She dropped down, away from her partner's somber musings. This business of tiptoeing on eggshells tired her more than the workout. "We might have to stop him. For good."

"Yeah . . ." The ghost of a word acknowledged, but didn't affirm. It wisped away into the air, hardly there in the first place.

"Can you do it?" If it meant that Blake could finally sleep easy at night, she would have no qualms in ending him. Yang held an anxious breath. And that scared her a little bit. But it didn't overpower the frustration digging into her gut, the slight sense of betrayal at her own partner's reluctance.

"I . . ." Hesitation seeped into the cracks of a single protracted syllable.

Yang rose up hotly, swallowing the angry shouts and screams back down her throat. Be calm. Logical. All the reasons cocked into place in her head, ammunition ready to explode. "Blake, think about what he's done. He helped start another war between the kingdoms." A war where huntsman and huntress had become pawns in a pointless contest between kings. They were supposed to be protecting humanity from the Grimm, not from each other.

Blake just bowed her head lower, still unable to match Yang's own fiery gaze. "I know."

"He led an _army_ of _Grimm_ into Beacon." Yang grit her teeth. Their second semester together. They'd _just_ gotten Blake to smile and laugh, convinced her that she could afford to relax once in a while, to enjoy a normal life, to be the dork she kept hidden underneath that stoic shroud. A fairy tale for the brooding bookworm. Until it was ripped right from her hands.

" _I_ _know_."

Yang squeezed her brows together angrily. Pure emotion swam past the logic. She gripped Blake's chin and jerked it towards her. "He hurt you, Blake!"

Sparks flew as livid lilac met anguished amber. "I know!"

She wrenched her face from Yang's grasp, downcast eyes returning to their bleak reflection, fleeting fury whisked away by short, somber breaths. "I know . . ."

Her own anger faded just as quickly, leaving bitter implications that echoed in her mind. She let herself fall. "He means a lot to you." Her grip loosened, leaving only her fingers to keep her aloft. Maybe he was like family. Or maybe something more.

Her right tricep flexed unconsciously, tightening the black ribbon wrapped around it. She glanced at the distinctive bow now decorating her upper arm, as it had no doubt graced Blake's head before. It had become a symbol not just of their partnership, but of their confidence in each other.

Yang swallowed. Her confidence, huh? Had _he_ been that confident? Maybe the similarities didn't stop at their Semblances. They could be the same in more ways than Yang cared to think.

"He used to." Blake sunk down, leveling a calm, collected stare at her, along with a small, wistful smile. "But he's not you." Yang felt her own smile form. How just a single sentence could bring her back from the brink so easily. Blake was never one to waste her words. That's why they felt so powerful, each one so precious. That's why she loved hearing her talk, loved listening for the little intonations that skillfully wove meaning into her mellow voice. Anticipation breezed through her chest as Yang literally hung on her every word.

"I'm not ready to face him yet." Blake reached out with her left hand. Yang met with her right, lacing their fingers together. The earlier shaking was gone, replaced by the same firmness that was in her eyes. "But if you're with me, I think I'll _be_ ready."

"Why the change of heart?"

Her partner looked out at the rain soaked rotunda. Her quiet smile widened as memories danced in a slideshow behind amber irises. "Because you're right."

She could help but feel a little bit accomplished at that. "Don't you hate it when that happens?"

"I used to." Blake nodded thoughtfully. "I used to hate a lot of things. Like how I ran away."

Yang drummed her fingers against the back of Blake's hand, pressing their palms closer together. It wasn't her fault. "That's just who you are."

"Yeah." Blake chuckled humorlessly. "I don't think Adam understood that."

What's sad was that Yang got that. She'd been beyond furious after hearing that Blake ran away. She fell in a bad way, almost didn't get back up. But she did. And it took the better part of a month to think it through and gather the courage to find her lost partner. "Maybe he just didn't try."

"It doesn't matter now. I'm going to close the book on us. He deserves that much." Blake let out a shuddering breath and looked back to her earnestly. "Will you help me?"

Slowly untangling their fingers, Yang held her right hand before her in a sturdy fist. It was her weapon, a part of her very being, something she thought she couldn't live without. It was something that she'd give for Blake again without a second thought. "We'll do it together."

Their knuckles locked perfectly. "Together." No matter what. Nothing would keep her down, keep her from protecting the shy sparkle in Blake's eye. Yang Xiao Long was better than that. If Blake needed someone, Yang would be there for her. If Blake needed space, Yang would let her go.

She loved Blake too much to do any less.

A large drop fell from the leaves above, nailing Blake right between her feline features. Her head flailed about, her ears twitching in the most precious way possible. It was official. Yang was smitten. She was sure now. This was her partner for life.

Assuming she felt the same way, that is.

Yang sighed. One step at a time. Maybe start by complimenting that impressive show of strength. "Wow, I guess I was wrong, Blake."

Blake's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What?"

"You're _way_ stronger than I thought." At her partner's confusion, Yang pointed up to Blake's other arm, which held the rest of her body completely steady. "Look at you, hanging from one arm like a champ."

It was a scene straight out of a kids' cartoon. Blake blinked for good long couple of seconds before that once steadfast arm started shaking. She made a mad grab for the branch with her free arm, but it was too late. With a loud yowl, the cat fell from the tree.

Not on Yang's watch. She shot down immediately, hugging Blake to her as they braved the _extremely_ perilous six foot drop to the ground. The damp grass rustled as it did nothing to break her fall, the solid dirt underneath thumping as her back made contact. "Ow." Her head lashed forward and then whipped back into the even more solid tree behind her. "Ow." The world spun round and round, a carousel of Ursas racing across her vision before she shut her eyes. "Ugh." Nothing her aura couldn't tank, but it still wasn't pleasant.

Unlike that extra soft, plush weight settled on her stomach. She flicked one eye open, and then the other, her double vision joining to see that Blake had her pinned to the ground, mounting her triumphantly.

In her dizzy delirium, Yang couldn't help herself. "Come on, Blake. This is neither the time or place." Blake was just so much fun to tease.

So imagine her surprise when Blake leaned close, her husky breaths stroking Yang's ear. "That's a shame. Because I can't help but fall for you." Yang gaped. This time _she_ was the one blushing furiously. Did . . . did she just flirt back? Or was that just another pun? Or did she actually just flirt back with a pun?

Blake removed herself calmly, hiding giggles behind a Cheshire grin, and began to saunter away, sashaying her hips all the while. Nope. That was on purpose. It had to be. "Try to keep up, Yang."

Yang lay there, stunned, for a minute or so, her goldfish mouth opening and closing uncontrollably. No way. _No freakin' way_. Her lips sealed into an elated smile. There was hope for her yet. She bolted to her feet. "Oh, it's _on_ now. You asked for it, Blake!"

Childish laughter sounded through the corridors of trees as they ran circles in the little clearing. The light shower rained down on both of them, but neither seemed to care. At least, Yang didn't. In fact, it was kinda nice. The staggered droplets beating against them formed the rhythm for their little game, falling in time with the counterpoint of their cackles. It soaked through her clothes, washing away the sweat and tears. She shrieked excitedly as Blake spun around, strafing past her, just out of grasp. And that cocky smirk. Oooh. She was _so_ gonna get it.

She chased and chased her. Sometimes Yang was hot on her heels. Sometimes, she took a page from Blake's book and tried to intercept her. But every single time she got close, Blake would take the challenge. Blake dodged into her, flashing her that smirk before flying away in peals of laughter. Yang stopped for a moment, wiping wet bangs out of her eyes. She could feel water dripping off of each and every strand of hair on her head. And yet she felt so weightless. Seeing Blake so free, so whimsical for once, filled her with enough vertigo to simply float away.

Finally, Yang managed to trap her in a hug against the tree they'd started at. Or rather, Blake generously let herself be trapped. They were both soaked, but it wasn't the cold that sent shivers coursing through them. Adrenaline-fueled excitement lingered in their veins as they panted for breath, tired, but happy.

"Gotcha." Yang pressed up tighter against Blake, her heart going into overdrive as she felt every curve of her partner's slender body. Her brain very nearly turned to mush, barely able to string together coherent thoughts. Luckily, flirting with Blake was all instinct. "Now, what to do with you?"

Blake gave her the very definition of bedroom eyes. "What do you _want_ to do?"

Yang's mouth suddenly felt parched. Her body temperature skyrocketed, to the point that her clothes and hair were beginning to dry off. And apparently Blake noticed, leaning into her chest to absorb some of that warmth for herself. Yang swallowed. What did she want to do?

Oh, for goodness' sake, ask her out already, Xiao Long!

And she might have. She swore, she was right about to. She'd opened her mouth and everything. But an incessant buzzing from the pouch on her belt interrupted them.

"You'd better get that." For her part, Blake looked just as disappointed as Yang felt right now. Sighing, Yang backed away and fished her scroll out, flipping it open. A text from Ruby. Great. "It's Ruby, isn't it?"

"Yeah." She collapsed her scroll with a little extra force, tossing it back in her pocket. "She wants us back right now."

"Alright. Let's go then." Blake stepped onto the path leading deeper into the forest, further and further away from Beacon Cliff.

Yang stamped a foot out to block her. No, no, no. Not this time. No way they were just gonna leave it at that. "Woah, what's the rush? Ruby won't mind if we're a little late."

Blake gracefully spun aside, continuing without even batting an eyelash. "Maybe, but Weiss will kill us if she finds out where we really went."

Ah, yes. Princess killjoy. Yang grudgingly fell into line beside her partner. Couldn't blame her. It was still dangerous to be anywhere near Beacon at this point. "Right."

"There's always tomorrow." A sudden gust of wind sent a wave of raindrops crashing into her. Yang turned about frantically. Blake was already running. "Come on, Yang!"

Yang chuckled, breaking into a run herself. That little rascal. She'd known for a while that Blake could be quite sassy when she wanted to be. But who knew she could be so mischievous, so . . . catty? What other facets was she hiding, other secret sides of herself? She wanted to see them all. Yang smiled. She loved every part of Blake. And she would chase her as long as it took to tell her that. Tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow.

* * *

 _Howdy guys,_

 _First of all, I must apologize for lying. I had planned to tie this story up with a neat little bow in this chapter, but the scene I had demanded to be fleshed out. Honestly, I think it works out for the better. The focus needed to be on the parallels between Blake with Raven and Yang with Adam._

 _Also, thank you for the constructive reviews. Since this story was meant to be an exercise in getting into character, there really is no greater praise than to say I managed that. On the other hand, if I ever do stray out of character, please do not hesitate to call me out on that. It irks me just as much as it irks you, trust me._

 _Anyway, fingers crossed, next chapter should be the last in this runaway one-shot. Thanks for reading and, as always, hope you enjoyed._


	4. Full Circle

Chapter Four: Full Circle

The heavens had opened their floodgates on Emerald Forest, water rushing down in rivers from the sky. Heavy droplets hailed down, striking with enough force to upturn the loose soil and uproot defenseless saplings. And from the sturdy trees to the stone monuments, everything that had endured turned darker, baptized by a brutal blessing. Mother Nature had unleashed her wrath on the land today, and even the Grimm, fearsome as they were, had no choice but to seek what shelter they could find.

That went double for two amateur huntresses who dared to gallivant inside of her domain. Blake raced down the path, leaving waves of mud behind in her wake. Sting was drawn and ready at her side. Yellowjacket gleamed against the pulsing halo of a proud golden mane as Yang matched her step for step, marching dauntlessly through the deluge. Water sizzled and crackled against the copious skin bared by a simple yellow tank top and black shorts.

A groan rumbled in Blake's throat as a barrage of drops pelted her exposed arms, left uncovered by lithe, black ninja robes. She continued to strum the fingers of her left hand, playing with the ends of Shadow's strings. Thin wires cut a swath across the rainfall with nary a sound, casting a violent spray aside. She managed to keep most of the oppressive drops from bruising her this way, but couldn't keep this up forever. Her eyes joined Yang's in the frantic search for sanctuary.

An outcropping blocked by a pile of fallen trees. Through the cracks, she could spot a canopied clearing just behind it. "Yang!"

"Way ahead of you!" When Yang really did rush forward, Blake couldn't help but chuckle. She pressed the hidden switch on Sting's hilt with her thumb. A jingle sang, ringing through the noise of pounding rain. Yang's hair glowed with even greater vibrance, her strides wider and more confident. Blake was right behind her.

Yang's right fist smashed straight through, rending wood to wet splinters and even ash. Bounding through the new opening, Blake gave her partner steeled eyes and a nod. Yang smiled brightly and nodded back. They dashed to the center of the hidden glade and stood back-to-back against the pitch-black, light and shadow, their breathing as one.

There was something different about this area. Blake inhaled and exhaled eagerly through her nose. The air tasted good. Despite all the possible danger, a strange sense of security sedated her wound up muscles. A craving she never knew she had was being sated. Tuning her vision to the darkness, Blake scanned her half of the clearing. Rocks, bushes, and trees.

She scrunched her nose. Why was it all so familiar?

"Hellooooo? Is anyone out there?"

A rogue drop of rain homed in on the back of Blake's head. It burst open against her skull, a splash of freezing cold that jolted through her body, waking her up.

She remembered those exact words.

Peering over her shoulder, she searched past waves of incandescent blonde, comparing the sights and sounds against the storyboard etched into her mind. Three shattered stumps all in a row. "Oh, come on!" And two pairs of glowing red eyes.

Coincidence, the skeptic inside told her. Yet she couldn't stop the euphoric currents that washed up against the walls of her stomach. Blake whirled around, her weapons at the ready. "At least you have me this time."

Yang raised a curious brow. "Um, I'm pretty sure you helped with those Boarbatusks earlier." She began counting off on her gold-plated fingers. "And the Beowulves before that. And the Creeps before _that_."

Blake breathed out a laugh. As radiant as she was, Yang could only illuminate the area immediately around them. A bit short-sighted. "Never mind. Let's just get rid of them."

"Alright. Now you're talking." She slammed her fists together to the swoosh of an igniting flame. The bubble of light further consumed the darkness inch-by-inch. "Who's our next lucky contestant?"

Squinting, Blake could make out the spinal protrusions on the large, bear-like forms lumbering towards them. "Ursas." Several bony plates covered their unnaturally large backs. "Ursa Majors."

"Wow. That sure takes me back." Yang moved into her usual boxing stance, hands protecting her face while the long spines guarded her body.

"Doesn't it?" Blake gripped Shadow and Sting, stifling her amusement. Perhaps Yang was starting to realize. It could have always been a den of Ursas that she had stumbled into that day.

"You wanna try out Sunrise?" Yang looked to her excitedly.

Blake gave her a deadpanned look. "I don't think that's necessary." Not when they were both skilled enough now to wipe out multiple Grimm in a single blow.

"Hey, there's no kill like overkill."

Two-on-two. "Fine." The odds were way in their favor. "The one on the left."

The bell's toll signaled her attack. The Ursas had reared up at their approach, each standing up tall to swipe at them with powerful paws. But it didn't even get a chance as Blake crashed into it, Shadow and Sting scratching through its hide without even using her aura. It roared as she pushed it back, launching off shadow clones to periodically propel herself further forward. The whirlwind of slashes bit deeper into the black flesh of its underbelly, carving out the same cross-shaped crevice over and over again. Yang was right. After a rough day like this, it definitely felt good to toy with her prey.

Blake slid back, sinking into Yang's shadow as she flew past. The Ursa was already dead on its feet, a sandbag for Yang's powerful left uppercut. Round after round fired into the target Blake had engraved for her, even after the beast surrendered with fumes of black smoke. It couldn't sustain much more abuse. She sheathed Sting and whipped the paired weapons out behind her.

 _Shink_.

A sliver of light climbed up the tip of a towering blade as she brought Shadow Sting before her, perching at a dangerously sharp point. The back half of Shadow had slid down, forming a telescopic edge that was double its original length. Compared to the many other modifications, this one had been the most straightforward and practical. Hardest part was getting it to make that cool sound whenever she used it.

Her eyes narrowed. Gods, she was such a dork. Raising the blade above her head, she cut down and across the Ursa's neck, severing its head. Yang burst straight through its stomach, light shining from the gaping hole she had made. Night above, sun below. Almost poetic.

"Nice!" Yang touched down next to her, her fists raised, ready and raring for the next fight. The Ursa Major's partner was still catching up, ambling towards them on all fours. "Here, I got this one."

Really? Blake rolled her eyes. Surely she knew how this was going to go. Especially if she was going to flip over it like that, revealing its back. Or maybe that was on purpose. Flipping Shadow Sting in her hand, she reared back for a javelin toss. Her partner distracted it with narrow dodges and playful jabs, buying her time to take aim. Right beneath that plate. Dead center in its back.

Twin blades buried themselves into the fell creature with a sickening crack, toppling over with an unceremonious thud. They locked eyes immediately. This time, amethyst wasn't so awestruck, instead delightfully amused. Collapsing her weapons with a flick of her wrist, Blake holstered them to her back. This time, amber wasn't so audacious, instead fluttering with quiet content. "I know. You could have taken him."

It was Yang who replicated the smug smirk Blake had decided on that day. "You set this up."

She shook her head. "I was just as surprised as you are."

Yang strolled over and slipped an arm behind her back. It was strange just how normal, how comfortable it felt now, to be in the presence of the sun. "But you knew. Soon as you got here."

As they walked the few steps back to the clearing, Blake looked up to her partner and told no lie. "I just had a feeling."

That same truth was mirrored back at her. "Yeah. So did I."

Blake felt each thudding beat of her own heart. In those eyes, she could see the love and compassion that had made this moment possible. The forgiveness. The understanding. All the reasons she knew that beyond the shadow of a doubt, she had made the right choice.

The world spun. Disorientation derailed the tracks of her mind as she was taken abruptly by the hand and twirled around and around. Her body instinctively followed the movements, having imagined them time and time again, practiced in secret once upon a dream. She let herself be flung outward only to be reeled back in, then dipped back just enough to feel the blood rush pleasantly to her head.

As she was pulled back up, Blake found only a sheepish smile in explanation. She offered a raised brow. "So I guess we're doing this now?"

Yang shrugged. "It just felt right." Holding Blake's waist, she pressed their bodies snug together. "You don't want to?"

She leaned into Yang's shoulder. "I didn't say that."

The playful grin distracted Blake, her right hand enveloped in a larger, warmer one, a comforting arm resting against the small of her back. Raising laced fingers up in front of them, wide, expectant amethyst asked for permission to continue. Amusement graced her own features as her ears found the sound of rain drumming against the mighty tree trunks.

CLAP-clap-clap. CLAP-clap-clap. CLAP-clap-clap.

She squeezed Yang's hand, letting herself be whisked away into the steady whirling dance. Her favorite dance. Three steps timed to a natural beat. No improvising. No showy moves. None of the modern dancing that gave her two left feet. This was different. Just aimless circles in a peaceful rhythm. Just her and her partner, going nowhere and everywhere. A tale as old as time.

As they spun and spun, a flash from behind her eyes washed the landscape white for just a few precious moments. They were back in Beacon's ballroom, to the first time they had danced like this. Back to the delight that never left her partner's pleased face that night, to dance saved just for her, to an exclusive expression only she had gotten to see. She could get lost in those eyes.

But not if they were already lost in thought. Right now, her partner suffered a thousand-yard stare, so distant, so far away. "Yang?"

"Huh?" Yang yelped as she fumbled her next few steps, hopping and skipping through panicked footfalls. She barely found her footing. "Oh geez, my bad."

"Don't worry about it." Blake slowed her pace, tugging her partner into a lazier spiral. "What's on your mind?"

Lilac fluttered innocently. "What do you mean?"

Her own eyes narrowed. The puppy dog look wouldn't work on this cat. "Don't be coy with me, Yang."

Leaning forward, Yang nestled her forehead right between two sensitive Faunus ears. Soft chuckles tickled onyx bangs. "Can't put anything past you anymore."

A vein throbbed painfully against her head. Blake brushed her ears against the glowing tresses. "You're too easy to read."

"Says the bookworm." A half-hearted scowl greeted Yang as she drifted away, resigned. "Alright, you got me. I guess it's just this place. It never _really_ hit me until now: how we're so close to taking back Beacon."

A black heel sunk back solidly into the soft soil. "It won't be the same. We're not students anymore."

The sun simply shuffled around. Blake pivoted in stationary orbit. "Like that ever made a difference. Remember our first mission?"

Blake treaded in time with her thoughts, circling around the memories as she found them. "Mountain Glenn, right?"

"Yeah, the one we weren't supposed to go on." Yang stepped out wide, their loops becoming grander, more pronounced. "We've come pretty darn far since then."

Shadow Sting's persistent weight pushed her back into Yang again and again as they continued to turn. They were much heavier than Gambol Shroud. "We certainly have."

"Makes you wonder, though." Yang turned her head away, looking behind for something in the darkness surrounding them. "Do you think things would have been different if we graduated? Became real huntresses?"

Blake shuddered, remembering a creeping cold that had made her shiver in the searing heat of a campfire once before. Icy shards of an unresolved question, melted away by time, still clung to the back of her brain, a scar begging to be scratched. "What brought this on?"

Yang's entire body seemed to sigh in exasperation. "I dunno. It's just been kinda crazy, you know? So much to do, no time to think about it."

Their entwined hands swayed to and fro. A glittering gold wristlet grazed a beautiful black ribbon again and again. "War tends to do that."

They twirled in place, at the behest of Yang's tightening grip. "You're right. And I know we can't just sit this one out. "

"No." They could. They could run. Blake leaned into her partner, leeched a little of her confidence. "No, we shouldn't."

Her light waned, flickering very briefly, just enough to reveal the hesitation behind that smile. "Well, good thing one of us has their head on straight." Optimistic words tried and failed to hide her crestfallen eyes. "You always know what to do."

Blake steadied them to a gradual stop. She faced her partner head-on, took in all the fleeting, unsure glances that didn't suit her. "Only what I _should_ do."

Turning calloused palms skyward, she placed her own hands flat against them. "Yang." One-by-one, she curled her fingers in, hooking their hands loosely together. "What do you _want_ to do?"

She watched her partner retreat behind amethyst, searching the depths within. As naive Beacon freshmen, their knowledge had been too limited, their experience too shallow. Things were different now. Blake could tell by her own uncanny lack of hesitation. She could tell by the confidence that shined through Yang's actions every single day. The answers were there now.

Even if they were slippery, escaping right out from Yang's open mouth. Her brows knitted in annoyance. "Sorry. You're kinda putting me on the spot."

"Now you know how I feel." Blake caught her eyes before they could sink any lower, raising them back up with her own.

Idle feet rocked on their heels, leaking the unease contained within. "You're starting to sound like me."

"And you're starting to act like me." Blake took a small step towards Yang, nodding when she took a step back. Something slower, something simpler was in order. Two steps forward. Two steps back. A pendulum, swinging back and forth. "Talk to me, Yang."

Reflective lilac looked past her, to the trees surrounding them. "Just thinking about why I even went to Beacon. About Summer. About Raven." Water caught in the crags of ridged bark glistened, wicks of candle flames that sparkled reverently. "Man, I was one angry kid."

The banter came out on reflex. "I can't imagine."

Still, it got a laugh out of her. But her smile soon wilted, wistful as she looked up further into the darkness of entangled branches, where millions of stars should be staring back at her. "Used to get into a _lot_ of fights. I just remember being _angry_. Angry at the Grimm. Angry at everyone around me." Amethyst shimmered, quivering with remorse. "Angry at the world."

Blake swallowed down her own bitter tears. "The world can be very cruel."

Warm eyes softened as they caught a shiver through her feline features. "You must have had it rough."

"There was so much hate." Her ears twitched, all four of them. "It didn't make any sense to me."

"It _doesn't_ make any sense." Brown boots fell more forcefully, imprinting the moist earth with wayward footprints. "You deserve better."

Her own feet padded softly, flowing with her partner's movements. "A lot of Faunus thought so. We thought the White Fang would change things. But we just caused so much pain, so much suffering."

The black bow on Yang's arm bounced as Blake stepped back once. Twice. "I hid myself because I was ashamed." Thrice.

She might have kept going if Yang's grip wasn't so sure. "Blake, there's nothing wrong with being a Faunus."

Blake barely kept the corners of her lips from curling up. Yang's acceptance had always been remarkable. But right now, that wasn't the problem. "It wasn't even that. I was ashamed because . . . I just watched it all happen." She sagged back into her step.

Only for Yang to draw her forward. "That's not on you."

"I went along with it, Yang." Just outside the opening in the trees, the torrential rain transformed the dirt into the same thick, black sludge that covered Beacon. "Look how that turned out."

"Hey. It wasn't all bad. I got to meet you." The small but genuine smile started at her eyes and radiated outward.

It loosened the binds around her heart, but regret would not be so easily undone. "Really, Yang? Was it really worth it?"

Yang took a deep breath, looking to the west, past the forest, seeing in her mind the academy they had both once called home. A thoughtful twinkle appeared in her eye. She exhaled, letting it all out. "I remember waking up in Patch. After Beacon fell. I saw my dad crying next to me. You know the first thing I asked him?"

A familiar pain twisted in Blake's gut. Her Faunus ears flattened against her head. "What?"

"Where _you_ were."

A sudden chill trailed up her legs. It all came back to her. Even if she didn't want it. The reasons. The pretenses that she'd hid behind. She bowed away. "I ran, Yang. Like I always do."

"After all you've been through, I don't blame you." Yang matched her downcast gaze, meeting in their misery. "Honestly, I'm a little glad you did."

Blake raised stunned eyes as Yang's face fell. "That was the lowest I've ever been. I wasn't even _angry_. Just tired of everything."

"I'm sorry, Yang." Blake grasped her hands tighter, until she could trace hardened knuckles with her thumbs. It was all she could do to stop the tears. "You never deserved that."

Yang hung her head in shame. "It felt like I'd never get back up."

The roar of the rain receded, quieting to a dull patter that dragged out the somber thought. Her thumbs moved to stroke Yang's palms. She would never know what her partner had been though just to find the will to fight again. She hadn't been there. She hadn't seen the struggle, the pain. There was only one thing she knew for sure.

"You did, Yang. You got back up. I wouldn't be here if you didn't." And she counted her blessings every day that Yang had been strong enough to find her, kind enough to forgive her. "You _saved_ me."

Yang scoffed. "Psh. C'mon, Blake. You're making me sound like a _real_ huntress." She said it so matter-of-factly, so second nature that the words seemed to just sit, stupefied in the very air between them. Even Yang herself gaped, unsure of what to do with them.

Fortunately, Blake _did_ know what to do. With an approving nod, she echoed them back. "Maybe you are."

The epiphany slingshot right back – Blake could tell by the way Yang flinched, blinking to discern the revelation that hit her right between the eyes. " _We_ are." A grin began to widen, brightening the darkness more than her semblance ever could. "You know, I used to think that being a huntress was all about going around and having crazy adventures."

A small smile of her own formed as Blake felt her partner's hands firmly clutch her own. "We've had our own share of adventures."

"It's funny, to think: Uncle Qrow told me that every day out there was worth a week back at Beacon." Relieved laughter breathed new life into the dank air. "I'm starting to see why."

"It _does_ feel good to actually help people."

Once clumsy footsteps now flowed together, forming a clear pattern. "Yeah. We've seen way too many people get hurt out there." Their whimsical, impromptu dance had become something more, an idea that had blossomed, transcending thought.

The painted flames of Yang's elbow popped out to life in the light of her semblance. They relit a fire inside of Blake that had long been smothered by shame. She clenched her teeth. "No thanks to the White Fang."

A gentle shake of her hands released the tension in her body. Blake didn't even have to look up to see the reassuring smile. She felt it, the warmth that welled up within. "We'll stop them, Blake."

Blake sighed. "I wish it was that simple. You've seen it, Yang. The Faunus need the White Fang."

Her yellow mane billowed left and right as Yang shook her head. "Not the way it is now."

"No." And that's when the image of a blue flag unraveled in her mind, flapping in the wind, ascended from ashes. If Yang could do it, if she could pull herself back up . . . Blake swallowed. She could see it, feel it rising higher and higher into the air and herself along with it. "But maybe the way it used to be."

"You gonna run it back?" There is was, that gleeful grin. Whether she was issuing a challenge or accepting one, Yang Xiao Long didn't back down.

Blake smirked. So this is what it felt like. Confidence filled her to the brim, almost making it hard to breathe. "Someone has to."

Yang stamped her approval with a smile. "Well, it sounds like _you_ got it figured out."

"Guess so." Blake looked up at her partner. "What about you?"

"Oh, don't worry about me. I'll be one busy bee." Yang stopped to pull Blake in closer, to let her see the flame in her eye. Sincerity burned pure, a focused fire that Blake had seen before. It was one that had stopped at nothing to bring her back. "Everyone falls down. Some people just need a little help getting back up. So that's what I'll do. I'll find those people and get 'em back on their feet."

Blake hung both hands from steadfast shoulders. Sturdy enough carry the burdens of others. Strong enough to hold up hope for those who had none. Anyone could learn how to dispatch a creature of Grimm. It took a little bit of wisdom and a lot of heart to protect mankind from itself. "You have a knack for it. I can vouch for that."

Warm arms wrapped around her waist. "Hey, maybe I can tag along with you."

"What?" If she wasn't so warm, Blake might have made a stronger effort to push her partner away. As it was, she just writhed a bit against her grip. "Yang, no."

Yang would not be moved. "Why not? A lot of Faunus out there need a helping hand." She pressed herself even closer, until Blake could smell the lavender rolling off her in waves. "And if they're anywhere near as hot as you, I sure wouldn't mind picking them up."

"Look who's talking." Warmth pulsed through Blake's body, surges of heat that emanated from each and every place their bodies touched. They ebbed and flowed as their bare arms brushed against each other, wearing down her resistance, convincing her that Yang was right.

Maybe because she was? Blake shook her head, breathing in cool air to sober her thoughts. "Yang, seriously. You'd be an outcast."

Yang shrugged it off. "What's new?"

Blake deflated, bowing her head. "I never wanted that for you."

"Too bad." Reaching behind her, Yang grasped one end of her orange scarf and pressed it against the black silk around Blake's neck. "We're partners, remember?"

Blake covered Yang's hand with her own. "That was _my_ choice."

"And this is _mine_." Yang smiled as she hugged Blake's head to her chest, whispering into Faunus ears. "Sorry, Blake, you're stuck with me."

And as she returned the embrace, settling into her partner, she decided to let her argument sit. No matter how far she ran with it, Yang would meet her at every turn. No, she let her mind take backseat for once, feeling rather than thinking. Finding solace in each other, they swayed back and forth to the low rumble of the rain. Eyes shyly flitted away to look at anything but each other. Small smiles and little nods at nothing in particular. Wordless exchanges filled with anticipation.

This comfortable silence. This was something they had earned. This was where Blake would usually crack open a book, living the lives of the people in the pages. It was where Yang would flip through her Scroll, finding new things to try, new places to go. It was where both of them would indulge themselves in the wonders of a world not their own.

But now here they were. Wandering the wilderness. Kidnapping heiresses. Finding old friends. Giving people hope. Their bucket lists were growing shorter and shorter. They were in that world now, looking to the future.

And she wasn't sure whether to be ashamed or not that it included Yang. She bit her tongue, but it overturned her dawdling indecision. "Alright."

Yang pulled away just enough to show Blake how lost she was. "What?"

Blake sighed. Perhaps context was necessary. "I mean, you're going to follow me anyway, right?"

Realization returned with a cocky smile. "You bet your booty I am."

"I hope you know what you're getting into. It might take a while for the Faunus to trust a human." Velvety black ears perked up, matching the curve of her mouth. A very long while if they were a cat Faunus. "And your pick-up lines could use some work."

Soft vibrations carried Yang's giggles through to Blake. "As long as they work on you."

Pleasant tremors rumbled between them as Blake responded in turn. "Coming on a little strong, aren't you?"

Yang pressed their foreheads together, gazing dreamily. "Just getting tired of pussyfooting around."

Blake almost didn't hear the pun over the beating of her heart, drumming in her ears so fast that she could hardly be sure it was there. Anxiety wound her body tight, a spring ready to snap. "That makes two of us."

She leaned in as Yang trailed her cheek with an ethereal hand, cupping her chin just right. She was shaking. They both were. But they wouldn't run from this. Not this time.

Every feature of the face Blake had fallen in love with focused into painstaking clarity. Stunning lilac eyes, filled with love and compassion. The magnificent smile that brightened her life, lighting the way forward. Radiant cheeks and a perfect little nose that animated her expressions, made her more vivid and vivacious than words could even describe. She burned them into her memory as she finally closed her eyes, giving herself to Yang. Her light, even in complete darkness.

Their lips met shyly at first, awkwardly feeling, fumbling, exploring. Something so simple, so innocent. Yet so elegantly intricate that nothing Blake had read could do it even the modicum of justice. The sharp pain in her temple. The ache in her stomach. The tangled coil strangling her heart. They all faded away. The two of them floated off, leaving their troubles behind.

Blake melted, pressing ever closer, as if their very souls could be connected by a single hot breath. One kiss flowed into the next. She poured herself into Yang and, in turn, felt tender, soothing warmth flow through her body. There was a need now, to brush those feather-soft lips against her own, a phantom craving that would only ever staved, never sated. The countless caresses started becoming too short, every touch more precious, more desperate to defy the tense scream of burning lungs.

They peppered the air with wild panting to fill the growing distance between them. Amber eyes fluttered open reluctantly, as if waking from a dream she didn't want to end. Heavy-lidded amethyst sparkled in the afterglow. Blake touched two fingers to her lips, feeling the wetness that lingered there. Struggling breaths grew even shorter as her heart raced in the realization of what they had done.

"Well. That was a thing." The glee in whispered words washed against Blake's sensitive skin, hyperaware of every little sensation. Of the gentle hand brushing the back of her head. Of the pillowy cheek nuzzling against hers.

"You have such a way with words." Her wit was cut short as she became aware of gravity's sneaky attempt to topple her over. She grimaced, only barely catching herself from lurching to the side. Her time on cloud nine had made her oblivious to just how close her feet had become. She took a step back to better support herself, but somehow misplaced it, slipping and sliding and flailing about.

But Yang was there. She whisked Blake into a bridal carry before she could even touch the ground, then set her down on the springy grass. It tickled her arms, but not as much as the silky golden tresses that dipped down, draping a curtain around them. Yang had knelt down beside her, tangling their hands together, looking quite pleased with herself. "Looks like I swept you off your feet."

Blake allowed the small smile. "Quite literally." Sitting back up, she shifted over so that their shoulders were perpendicular, pressed together perfectly. Yang's left hand slunk around to support her back. "I would say that I fell for you, but I think I used that one already."

Laughter lit up jubilant lilac. She laughed so hard that the mass of blonde curls tucked into Blake's shoulder, rustling her scarf and her hair. "You're the best, Blake. You're so awesome."

A blush seared the already sweltering skin of her ears. Always the flatterer. "I'm nothing special."

"But you are. Really." Yang's smile appeared inches from her own, shimmering with sincerity. "I mean, look at you. There isn't a day that goes by that you're not trying to make a difference. You do all these incredible things and make it look _so_ easy." With each statement, her eyes widened with sheer excitement. "I feel like I have to at least _try_ to keep up."

Yang placed their clasped hands flat against her heart. It thumped loud and fast, skipping to a brisk marching pace. "You fuel my fire, Blake – you challenge me, make me better than I am. I burn because of you."

Happy, grateful tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. How could someone be so enthusiastic to tell her how great she is? Her, of all people. The words climbed up her wet throat, patching the cracks in her voice with raw emotion. "Yang. _You're_ the one who inspired _me_. I thought I'd have to live my life hiding from the world."

She snuggled into the crook of Yang's shoulder, relishing the warmth of her hearth, her home. "You gave me a place to come back to. When you're there, I'm not afraid of fighting from shadows." Affectionate amethyst greeted her from above. "If you light the way, I'll be right behind you. I promise."

"Good. Because I don't care how bad it gets." Yang brushed their noses together, just barely missing thirsty, wanting lips. "As long as you're there, Blake."

Blake snaked her arms around Yang's neck, pulling herself closer. "Yang . . ." Warm light guided her to where she needed to be, even behind the blackness of her eyelids.

"Shh . . ."

Sharp, shrill cold pierced the air. "There you are!"

Oh.

Oh crud.

Weiss' voice had a way of making your stomach just . . . just plummet. Instead of moving, hiding, running, doing anything at all to improve her situation, Blake just froze. And judging from the loud swallow and little else from Yang, she did too. "Where have you two . . ."

The methodical padding of heels halted abruptly in shock. Weiss stood ramrod straight before them, blinking, mouth parted as the sight sank in. The fringes of her combat skirt ruffled in sheer disbelief before she exploded. "What are you doing?!"

A red cloak unfurled from behind icy white. Ruby popped out from behind her partner's shoulder. "Looks like they were about to smooch."

"I can see that, you dolt!" Blake shrunk as Weiss turned sharply back to them. They weren't forgotten. If there was one thing Weiss had down pat, it was delegating her wrath. "You two were sent out here to scout, not to . . . to canoodle!"

Ruby chortled. "Canoodle."

Blake couldn't hide her own stifled chuckling, not even with the hand covering her mouth. It was _very_ Weiss word. Yang shared her sister's snickers, adding a slow clap. "Wow, Weiss. Wow."

"Quiet, both of you." A chilly glare scolded Ruby before scowling at the duo even harder. "How long as this been going on? You two have been awfully close lately, but not _that_ close."

Blake exchanged a sidelong glance for an affirmative wink from Yang. Right. Play it cool. She fixed Weiss with her usual grumpy glare. "Not long enough to enjoy it, since we were rudely interrupted."

Yang performed an exaggerated nod. "Yeah, _Weiss_."

And apparently Ruby wasn't above ganging up on her partner. She got right in her face, smirking smugly. " _Yeah, Weiss_."

Weiss' stunned reaction was priceless. She looked positively betrayed. Ruby, on the other hand, beamed at them. "So I guess this means you two are _together_ together now?"

Blake smiled as she felt Yang clasp her hand gently. She squeezed back. "Yes. Yes, we are."

Weiss had apparently recovered enough to fling her ponytail out dismissively and roll her eyes. "Took long enough." But for all her bark, a small smile proved that she was still the biggest softy of them all. "Good for you. Both of you."

Ruby revved up, drawing herself in, closing her eyes, getting ready to burst like the uncontainable ball of energy that she was. She clenched her hands into small fists, nearly lost in the red frills around her wrists. "This. _Is_. _Awesome_!" Slim, energetic arms extended upwards, punctuating each word. "I am _so_ happy for you guys!" Her vim and vigor were truly infectious, afflicting Blake with subdued chuckles. Two other sets joined hers, one cool in its amusement, the other cheery and warm. Only Ruby could check the three of them like that. Just by being impulsive as ever.

Case in point, she nearly tackled Weiss from behind, huddling them all together in a loose circle on the grass. "Group hug!" And true to her word, she flung her arms across white and across yellow, linking her hands behind Blake's neck to draw them all in. The flimsy bonds became rock solid as four pairs of arms weaved together and locked, a firm pressure that had them cheek-to-cheek, giggling like carefree schoolgirls.

Blake let herself become lost in the laughter. Beacon could wait. It was just a place, a symbol, a starting line for their relationship. Right now, this embrace, this was her home. This was her family. This was where she belonged.

The chords of camaraderie strumming in their hearts sustained their cheery laughter, even as they sat back slowly in satisfied silence. But the restless Ruby couldn't sit still for long, hopping to her feet. "Good stuff, guys."

Only natural to follow suit. Blake moaned as her body contended against contentment, little aches that tried to keep her rooted to that spot. It would have taken her a minute or two to get back up, if not for two insistent arms that picked her up by the waist and raised her effortlessly into the air. She kicked and squirmed, for pride's sake more than anything because she couldn't deny how her breath had been taken away. As her feet hit the ground, she huffed but didn't shy away from Yang's presence at her side. "Thanks."

Yang bumped hips with her, glowing in all senses of the word. "My pleasure."

And at the sight of the two back at it, Ruby simpered, rubbing the back of her neck. "Oh. And, uh, sorry for, you know, ruining your moment. Maybe we should leave you two alone."

Weiss lifted her nose into the air. "One might say that we should, buzz off?"

You could hear the crickets chirping, even in the downpour. Indignant cheeks puffed out in a pout. "You know, because you're Bumblebee . . . ?"

Blake stopped halfway from a double facepalm, instead extending those exasperated hands towards Weiss, presenting the dead joke back to her. Even Yang knew better than to explain the pun.

Yang rubbed her temple. "Please. Weiss, _honey_ , just stop."

Blake chuckled as Weiss fumed. Now _that_ was masterfully done. "It's fine, Ruby. I think we were going to head back to town anyway."

"We _were_?" Blake almost laughed at how disappointed Yang sounded, her voice rising several octaves in pitch, and nearly sputtered at how distressed she looked. Crestfallen, eyes watering, the very image of a kicked puppy.

She might be a cat, but she wasn't heartless. So she threw her a bone, leaning back against Yang's shoulder, sneaking her sultry eyes that promised much more. "Yes, Yang. We were."

"Ooooh." Her widening grin wrote volumes of the mischief she had in store for the both of them. "Yeah, okay. I'm cool with that."

Weiss cringed, leering at them out the corner of her eye. "Hmph. I hope you two at least have the decency to get a room this time."

Because kissing in public was _so_ scandalous. Yang threw her arms up into the air. "It's a freakin' forest!" Her sentiments exactly.

Ruby rushed between fire and ice, holding her arms out. She puffed her chest out to appear bigger, but only succeeded in looking more adorable, if that was even possible. "C'mon, let it go, Weiss." Ruby turned to her sister. "We'll go on ahead. Meet up with us whenever you're ready."

And fluttering red rose petals were the only evidence that Ruby had been there in the first place. Along with the warmth in their hearts, of course. Weiss shook her head, extending her palm to cast a glyph at her feet, another unique design, another snowflake true to its nature, no longer merely a mirror of the Schnee symbol. And despite all her protests, Weiss produced a rare, sincere smile. A beautifully faceted crystal forged from ice. "Don't dally too long."

Weiss took off, trailing icy wind behind her. Blake simply stepped back, bumping into the glow of the yellow fire behind her. Then there were two.

Yang turned her around, clutching her shoulders with a goofy grin. "So. Where were we?"

Blake folded her arms. "You heard her, Yang. We should go."

As if Weiss' word would make her relent. "Whenever we're ready, they said." Yang waggled her eyebrows. "I figure that might take a while."

"Tell you what. If you can keep up with me . . ." Blake scratched her cheek. How best to word this. "Maybe . . . maybe we'll actually take Weiss' advice."

Obviously that was too vague. Yang turned her head with the questioning brow. "What?"

Blake bit her tongue, eyes veering away. "You know, actually get a room." Now _that_ actually sounded pretty scandalous.

And perhaps it was too strong an incentive, judging by how the wide, gaping mouth shaped into a cocky grin. "Oh, I'll catch you, Blake. No matter what it takes."

Grasping Shadow Sting's hilt, she turned back around to hide the smirk that came unbidden to her lips. "I'm counting on it."

Blake became a black blur as she ran out the opening, back to the path, unsheathing Sting with a satisfying _shing_ , letting Shadow loose against the torrent that descended upon her. And true to her word, an orange scarf sailed in the wind against the streak of yellow to her right. A tremor traveled up Blake's spine. Her skin still tingled, her mind and body still numb from the rush. Yellow would always guide her back home, truer than the sun in the sky. A warmer hand brushed the top of her own. Her own brilliant beacon.

Setting Sting on her back, she clasped Yang's hand tightly, mirroring the bright smile across from her. The day had caught the night, rewarded for its perpetual pursuit across the sky. And like the sun and moon, they would rise and fall. There would be good times and bad times. But she and Yang, they would strive to be the dawn and the dusk as they moved forward on this endless, twisted loop.

Together.

* * *

 _Aaaaaaaand we're finally done._

 _Gosh, this one was definitely a ride to write. I had originally planned to play with perspective, but decided it got way too clunky half way through. Anyway, sorry this one took so long, but hope y'all enjoy reading it._

 _Until next time!_


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